CRUSH CULTURE!

(GAY) PANIC!

"what the fuck did i just do?! what the fuck, what the fuck!" jeongguk paced around in his room, pulling his perfect hair askew, mumbling nonsense, "that is not what enemies do, that is definitely not what enemies do!"

    he turned towards his punching bag, throwing his fists with every word. i am not gay for taehyung. i am not gay for taehyung. i am not gay. i am not gay. i. am. not. gay. at. all.

    flopping onto his bed from exhaustion, mentally and physically, he groaned. jeongguk opened his eyes tentatively, looking down at his jeans, as if prolonging the process would make the prominent bulge go away. he huffed, i need to get rid of that. his eyes trailed to his open door, the knowledge that taehyung was still in his get-up, had him shaking with adrenaline, before he snapped out of it, smacking himself in the face.

    jeongguk reached for his phone, searching for a specific contact.

"hey, jennie. you doing anything tonight?"

needless to say, that night taehyung cried himself to sleep, clasping the pillow over his ears, in efforts to drown out the sound of his heart breaking into a million shards. or the moans that passed through the paper thin walls, that made him want to scratch his ears off.

    maybe jeongguk felt the same.

    or maybe not...