WARNING: Contains Mature content. Also, some pretty bad humour and a lead up to so much drama. Enjoy^^ 

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Jungkook was spending another afternoon in detention. This time books surrounded him, full of calculus and weird symbols. None of which he recognised.  But Namjoon had set him enough homework to keep him busy for a week. Straight.

He sighed, hand running through his hair. Jungkook needed a distraction and god decided to be merciful, sending in an angel from heaven. Taehyung sauntered in the room, hands in his pockets and a lazy smile on his lips. Jungkook felt his heart do a flip and then a bungee jump when the elder looked at the younger boy waving his hand.

“Hey, Kook. What you stuck here for?” His deep voice filled the quiet room, the teacher on duty only looking up to shush him.

The addressed boy felt himself blush, “I might have fallen asleep during English.”

Taehyung laughed,” Who hasn’t? Mrs Song can be a .”

He just nodded in response, looking back at his books for a second before deciding that homework could wait when the guy of his dreams was talking to him. “And what did you do?”

“What haven’t I done?” Taehyung said, “But well, I was caught with a cigarette during lunch.”

Then he winked at Jungkook. The boy knew that Taehyung wasn’t the one for smoking. Unless it was weed. He still didn’t understand how any of the teachers hadn’t picked up on the fact that Taehyung was high most of the day. They called him ‘peculiar’ and having a ‘4D personality’, when in reality he was the epitome of hashtag 420.

Jungkook laughed, despite not having heard anything that was particularly humorous. Damn hormones. The conversation stilted for a bit. He decided to return back to his studies before he could say anything stupid but Taehyung wasn’t the quiet type.

“Kook, have you seen Deadpool yet? I watched it during the weekend and, god, it was so good.”

He coughed, “Haha, yes. I watched it during the weekend too.”

What was he saying? He hadn’t been to cinema in almost six months. He didn’t like superhero movies. He didn’t even know who Deadpool was.

“So how did you like it? The ending was so good,” Taehyung was really excited, shifting in his seat.

“The ending?  Yeah, that’s my favourite part,” Jungkook said. Inside, he was screaming.

Taehyung looked at him, oblivious to the discomfort his friend was feeling, “Was it? I liked the scenes in the cab more.”

, . Jungkook had no idea what he was talking about, “Yeah, they were good. The cab driver was such, uh, a, uh, funny guy?”

“Hmm, I guess you could say that.” Taehyung furrowed his brows. “Anyway, this local band is playing tonight in The Golden Lion. Want to go?”

“YES,” Jungkook yelled out without thinking, jumping in his seat. Taehyung shifted his eyes to the teacher that was shooting daggers their way with her gaze and grimaced. “I mean, uh, yes, that’d be cool and whatever.”

He was burning bright red, trying to hide his face by pretending to search for something in his bag, while he tried to get his breathing in check, his heart beating faster than a freight train going past his house every Monday at exactly seven in the morning.

“Cool, I’ll meet you there then,” Taehyung slipped out his phone from the pocket. “Give me your number first, so I can text you when I leave my place.”

Jungkook wasn’t panicking. Not at all. He was fine. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself as he slowly emerged from behind his backpack, praying to whatever was out there that his face had returned to its normal colour.

“Sure,” his voice seemed to have returned to his pre-pubescent days, an octave higher than he was used to.

The teacher shushed them again, “No phones. And NO talking.”

Jungkook scribbled his number on one of his homework sheets passing it to Taehyung, watching the older boy as he typed the number in his phone, following his every movement. His inner teenage girl was acting up more than ever before and he was just a step away from filling his notebooks with ‘Kim Jungkook’ in fancy handwritings.  Yes, he might have imagined them getting married. Only once though. Okay, twice but no more.

Rest of his fantasies were reserved for, well, something more fun. He might be a but he had seen plenty of to feed his imagination for the rest of his life. Especially after that one video with the riding crop and pizza. Oh god, he had played out that one with Taehyung more than dozen times.

And now he should stop thinking about it, his grey trousers suddenly too tight for him. Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hands quickly finding their way in his pockets, trying to rearrange the situation downstairs before anyone noticed.

Taehyung had managed to fall asleep in just those few seconds and with a flushed face Jungkook excused himself to the toilet, rushing past the teacher, hands still pushed deep down in his pockets. His untied laces tripped him over, into the closed door, pushing it open with his body weight. The teacher just sighed, not even looking up. Even she was done with Jungkook’s .

The toilets were empty, not unusual for this time of the day and he breathed out in relief, entering one of the stalls and collapsing on the toilet seat, not worrying about the amount of germs and possible STD’s he could catch just breathing this air.

Jungkook had created a routine for dealing with situations like these. Usually, he got no reason boners but today, he had ed himself up, pizza grease still fresh in his memory. First, think about moldy cheese. If Plan A fails, think about salad. Ew, he grimaced to himself, who would eat grass, he still didn’t understand the reason behind that. If Plan B fails, think about that time his mom walked in on him to High School Musical soundtrack and crying.

Okay, if that fails, which it did, time to bring out the big guns. Plan D was something he used rarely. Very rarely. Few years ago Hoseok had shared this method with him, well not really method. It was a picture. Saved on his phone, in a folder protected by a password only he knew. And yes it was exactly what anyone would think of first. The worst thing a child could see in their lives; worse than murder.

It was a picture of their grandparents knocking boots. On a swing. He refused to think about how recent it was, saggy skin everywhere he could lay his eyes upon.

He patted his pockets for his phone. . ing . Jungkook had left his phone back in his bag. In the classroom, to which he couldn’t go back to, his still trying to poke a hole in his trousers, desperate to be set free. So he did what any teenage boy would do.

His hand flew to his zipper, shaking as he opened it, letting it palm his through the material of his pants, groaning from the fiction created. He let his trousers fall on the floor together with his pants before resuming his actions this time hand firmly wrapping around his , his thumb circling around the tip, precum leaking from it already.

He spit on his palm, saliva the only type of lube, he could get in here and started it up and down, soft groans escaping from his lips. His hand was warm against his and his mind filled with images of Taehyung ing into him in an empty classroom, all the windows open and his desperate yells filling the running track underneath it.

“Tae-” Jungkook moaned, with every coming closer to release, “…”

Jungkook’s breath became erratic, his palm closing in tighter as the saliva dried out but he didn’t stop, not wanting to stilt his release that every fibre of his being was begging for, Taehyung on his mind ing him, his lips wrapped around his bobbing up and down, looking up to meet Namjoon’s eyes. And he came.

His stuck to his palm as he came down from the high. Banging on the stall door brought his mind to a clear, “Hey, dickhead, why don’t you find a room? I need to take a and your ing is not helping.”

“Sorry,” he called out, voice still deep as he cleaned himself up, refusing to think about what just had happened. Or how he’ll look anyone in the eyes after this.

Jungkook was walking through the corridors, hurrying back to the classroom. His hair was sweaty and he could feel his pants sticky with he wasn’t able to clean off. There were a few people walking past, not really looking at him but he still tried to make himself smaller every time. Pushing his neck in his shoulders, attempting to morph into a tortoise, the image of Namjoon still in his mind.

Which didn’t make any sense. Jungkook had been crushing on Taehyung since his freshman year. Taehyung had been the one assigned to show him around and they spent that afternoon behind the old gym building as Taehyung got high and Jungkook enjoyed the way sunshine fell on the tanned skin of the older boy.

“Hey, Jungkook!”Deep voice called out. He jumped, his head shooting up to meet his team captain, Yongguk. He was still in his basketball uniform, his face red from exhaustion, “Where have you been today? The coach was looking for you.”

“Hey, hyung, sorry I missed the practice. I’ve been stuck in detention for the whole afternoon,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. Jungkook could feel guilt creeping in, thinking about the way he had spent last twenty minutes. “Anything exciting happen?”

The team captain looked at him, his lips pursed together, “We tried out some new formations in offense and went through two one two defence again. Nothing too fun.”

Jungkook smiled, “That’s great then. I know I’ve been absent a bit but I’ve practiced the four one zone offense, we did before, on my own. I think I’ll be ready for the next practice.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Yongguk narrowed his eyes, sighing deeply,” Listen, Jungkook, I hate this stuff so I’ll be direct.”

. Jungkook had a bad feeling. A real bad feeling.

“Coach said to tell you, you’re out of the team.”