Ego: Hit and Run (Taekook)

I Bet You Would Look Good In Red

"I think you need to get laid tonight, Tae!" Hoseok was shouting, too loudly for his liking, right into his ear.

Taehyung blanched, shoving the shorter and heavily intoxicated man off of his back. He was already thoroughly annoyed by the flashing strobe lights that were rapidly convincing him he had epilepsy, not to mention the excessive bass that was rattling his very insides with every pulsation of the beat, and now this.

He wanted to leave the club, really he did, but his person of interest was busy grinding the night away on the hallucinogenic dance floor, so his wishes were taking the back seat, at the moment.

"I think you need to get sober, Hobi," Taehyung mumbled under his breath, unwilling to raise his voice to shout his retort over the chaos of the club.

"Why so serious, Grandpa?" Hoseok pounced on his back again, making Taehyung stumble into the wall under the heft of his body weight.

"Leave me alone hyung!" Taehyung was getting fed up with babysitting two kids in one night.

Since when has my job turned into professional nanny: licensed to kill?

"Awe, you're already no fun regularly, but now that you and Jeongguk are on the outs... you're even more of a pain, Tae-tae! What happened to our deal? You haven't been holding up on your end, even though I was generous enough to supply my part so thoroughly."

Taehyung rolled his eyes, not bothering to deny his Jeongguk jibe, shoving Hoseok's prying fingers off of his shoulders. He was eyeing the dance floor for that familiar crown of black locks when he felt a splitting pain on his right cheek bone. He stumbled back with the force of the punch, doubling over against the wall in pain.

"What the f—" he stuttered, brain reeling leaving thoughts scattered in the ripples of the impact.

He felt slender fingers pull his face back around to be confronted with a set of eyes. Furious eyes.

"I thought I made myself clear, Tae?" Hoseok's voice was lethal, glare smelting the shock right off of Taehyung's stupefied expression as he strained to catch his next words over the chaos of the club. "Let me put this in a way you seem keen to respond to. If you don't make up with that kid by the end of this night, you'll be seeing more of these."

He flashed his bulky rings in a wave of knuckles, the gold catching flare in the bright flashes of club lights.

"Hope I won't have to hold up on that promise. For your sake, kid," he taunted, walking away with the swagger and self-importance of a life-long hustler.

Taehyung raced to catch his breath, utter bemusement slipping away into ire as he came to grips with what just happened.

I knew that motherfucker was fucking deranged, but holy shit. How fucking bipolar can you get?

He rubbed his face tentatively while wobbling to stand up, feeling wetness soak his fingers as he made his way to the back of the club. He cast one last glance to Jeongguk's nimble body dancing in the densely packed platform of thick masses, before deeming it safe to disappear into the dark hall in search of a bathroom. He found one after a sharp left, stumbling into a one-stall public restroom splendid enough to be on the cover of some editorial.

"Demented psycho ass piece of shit!" he swore aloud, surveying the bleeding gash on his cheek from Hoseok's spontaneous attack.

After rinsing out the blood from the towels and patching himself up in the mirror, he sensed a continuous vibrating in his back jean pocket. Applying pressure onto his wound, he reached back to examine his phone's alert, eyes landing on a series of photo attachments from Jeongguk's number. And one solitary verbal message.