You and Me, We're Bumper Cars [Taekook Fanfic]

Chemical Kids

Within his lifetime-that is, seventeen years and counting-Jungkook has discovered that he genuinely enjoys two things: pouring out his weekly school allowance on several rounds of Virtua Cop 2 at Pixel Park, an arcade five blocks south of his school, and going on late-night rendezvous every Friday night with his infamous gang of friends to smoke a pack of cigarettes inside his pickup truck. These things become all the more enjoyable when the group collectively decides to avoid school altogether and head straight for the arcade in the middle of the day, pockets loaded with spare change, illegally purchased Mary Jane, pieces of paper, and a lighter stolen from Jungkook's father's study, which, before its abduction, had been previously tucked behind several books lined along a wooden shelf.

They had the perfect agenda for the last day of school; blowing off the final exams of the school year in favour of the latest video games while blazing near the arcade's back room. All had been going well, with him and his gang of self-proclaimed "rebels" laughing and indulging in the options the snack bar had to offer; weed always tasted better with a little bit of sugar, after all. But after one of them-Hoseok, that fucking idiot-had been caught by one of the employees rolling up a joint for himself, they had to make a run for it.

"Head to the alley! The one down the road! Take a right!" Namjoon directs them towards their designated hideout as Jungkook trails past the rest of the group, lactic acid pounding in his muscles as he dashes through the empty streets.

Jung fucking Hoseok. Jungkook spits on the sidewalk. His footing falters, legs wobbling with each step that brings him closer to the alley. He can hear his pulse hammering against his temples, vision spinning around him; he can hear his friends calling out to him from behind, but the drugs have stolen his ability to comprehend their words clearly without having to repeat them to himself over and over.

The rest of the group follows through, with Hoseok, Namjoon, and Seokjin coming into view, chests heaving from the chase. Jungkook props himself up on a wall with his two hands, shoulders moving up, down, up, down, with every intake of air. He shrugs out of his denim jacket and throws it to the ground, sweat trickling down his entire body. His black shirt sticks to his body, the lines of his chest and abdomen visible through the fabric.

The nausea rocks through Jungkook's body, and his earlier meal, comprised of fries, a burger, and a can of Coca-Cola, exit his system in the form of bile rising from his throat and out onto the ground. He coughs and nearly chokes on the fluid, if not for Seokjin's helping hand, slapping him on the back and mumbling let it out, it's okay, we got you, you'll be fine.

Somehow, despite the blurry vision and wrecked sense of hearing, he manages to make out the scene: across the wall he's leaning against, Namjoon's hunched over, hands planted on his knees while he coughs, making guttural noises in the process. Hoseok's on the ground, knees digging into the dust and litter, while his palms are planted flat on the gravel. Droplets of sweat drip from his hairline down to his jaw; his gaze is distant even though it is affixed on the trash shoot further down the alley. Seokjin is barely able to maintain his composure, standing next to Jungkook. Seokjin's hand drops from Jungkook's back to break his fall; he eventually joins Hoseok on the ground, puking all over the place due to the influence of Jungkook's earlier episode. Jungkook tuts, wiping away the saliva dripping from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand.

"This is all your fucking fault," he shoves a finger in Hoseok's direction. "If you hadn't been so fucking loud at Pixel Park we wouldn't have gotten caught!"

Hoseok is quick to rise to his feet. "Me? We shouldn't have been there in the first place! We're supposed to be at school right now!"

"Then why the fuck did you agree to come with us?" Jungkook's head throbs at the volume of his own voice. He raises his arm and locks his fingers into a fist before driving it into Hoseok's jaw. "You goddamn scrub. Fucking weak."