Speeding Into Trouble || Taekook

27

Jeongguk stood in the middle of the arena, hands jammed so deep into his pockets it was a miracle they hadn't torn straight through the fabric. His leg bounced restlessly, his jaw grinding so hard he could've snapped a diamond in half.

The usual wild adrenaline he fed on before every race was nowhere to be found—replaced by a gnawing, ugly itch under his skin that no amount of speed or violence could scratch off.

He wasn't here for the race tonight.
He was here for blood.
He was here for answers.

His eyes darted across the swelling crowd like a wolf scanning for prey, heart pounding a brutal rhythm against his ribs.

Somewhere in this mess, Jimin was supposed to show up—and Jeongguk wasn't leaving without wringing the truth out of him.

Of course, because the universe loved fucking him over lately, a voice as grating as nails on a chalkboard cut through the tension.

"Ohhh my dear friend, Jeonggukie," Kang drawled, sauntering over with the smugness of someone who had never been punched hard enough in the face. Yet.

Jeongguk didn't even try to hide the murderous glare he shot at him. "What the fuck do you want?" he snapped, venom dripping from every syllable. If Kang didn't get out of his face in the next five seconds, Jeongguk was going to redefine assault.

Kang's shit-eating grin widened, clearly thriving off Jeongguk's foul mood like a parasite. "Just here to wish you luck, buddy."

Jeongguk barked out a hollow, humorless laugh and muttered under his breath, "Go eat a cactus, Kang." Then louder, "Fuck off. Seriously. I don't need your bullshit tonight."

Kang looked like he wanted to say something clever, but Jeongguk had already tuned him out, turning his focus back to the crowd. His pulse was hammering. His fingers twitched. His whole body was buzzing like he might explode.

And then—finally—his friends appeared.

Relief punched through him... only to turn instantly into rage when he realized one critical, infuriating detail:

Jimin wasn't with them.

He stormed up to Yoongi so fast it was a miracle he didn't set the ground on fire. "Where the fuck is Jimin?" he demanded, voice sharper than broken glass.

Yoongi, unfazed as always, lifted a brow. "Why? You jealous of my boyfriend now?"

Jeongguk practically growled, raking a hand through his hair so hard he almost ripped it out. "Just fucking tell me where he is, Yoongi!"

Yoongi stared at him for a beat, clearly wondering if Jeongguk had finally gone clinically insane. Then he shrugged. "It's Taehyung's engagement today. Jimin's there. Won't be coming tonight."

The words hit Jeongguk harder than any crash he'd ever taken.

For a second, he genuinely wondered if he'd heard it wrong—if he'd somehow slipped into a parallel universe where logic didn't exist.

"...What?" The word stumbled out of him, small, disbelieving, pathetic.

Yoongi frowned at him, suspicious now. "What's your problem?"

Jeongguk stood there, muscles locked, fighting for air. "Repeat that," he rasped, feeling like someone had jammed a crowbar between his ribs and cracked his chest wide open.

Yoongi, slowly and clearly—as if speaking to someone mentally unstable—repeated, "Taehyung's. Engagement. Today."

And just like that, Jeongguk's entire world tilted sideways and crashed.