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I d flex but i like this blacking out big village

TO PAIR UP

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Ay man come on man, we only went to Applebee's, it was 2-for-1 drinks. I ain't even spend that much money. And get this I was staring at her titties the whole time. What the fuck. That's a weird ass flex dawg but ok. Bitch I'm feeling like the goat. Shawty wasn't deep well you should tell that to her throat You ain't gotta listen man I'm only spittin hope yeah. Now you tryna hit my line n be like so, I still hit Now why you actin like a veteran bruh.

I bet ya girls Bitmoji's lookin better than her. I mean I get it when you prolly only funny on ya snap chat. Then they see ya fucking pink shorts with the snap back ACT. Like you been here before. Now I'm the king of the north. Ya wifey tell me you the king of divorce, and I'm a force. Field, not my fault. I'ma shake the world until the plates start shifting like a motherfucking course meal All my fucking weight. Lifting off my shoulders, indicate. I'm a colder case a boulder gotta chase for me to flee.

It's crazy how I do this shit for free. But I don't give a fuck if you don't give a fuck it's how it be and hold up. Why you lying like you ballin or you rich. Blame Game - Single. Sith Sense. Marvelous Freestyle - Single. Dracula - Single. Bout Time. Little Things. You have one minute. Taehyung manages to get through forty of those, eliciting a "excellent, great job" from his previously unimpressed trainer, and this small token gives Taehyung the energy of a rising athletic champion.

Taehyung smiles at Jeongguk while he pants, watching him write down in his little black notebook again. He doesn't know how he does on the next test, which involves him running back and forth between two walls with increasing speed intervals that are differentiated with a series of beeps. Jeongguk doesn't seem to say anything, and Taehyung pouts, squeaking his sneakers on the gym floor as his trainer silently writes in his notebook.

So this is a good point to start at. I think we can accomplish a lot," Jeongguk says, placing his hands in his pockets. Taehyung doesn't think he's seen Jeongguk slouch once since they met. On Monday we'll start your first training session. Taehyung nods, scratching at his bare thigh. I don't know, an exercise thing that will motivate me," Taehyung says, impatient. Jeongguk nods slowly. It's overwhelmingly sexy.

Up until he actually does the 'hand-stand pushup' which ends up being even more agonizing to watch. He starts with a regular hand-stand, then lowers his face down to the ground, his elbows actually bending, defying gravity, then he lifts his whole body back up into a hand-stand. He does five, effortlessly, before he swings back into an upright position. Jeongguk looks almost shy, staring at ground for a moment, then nods.

Let me show you out. They walk down the hallways, quietly for a few seconds before Jeongguk clears his throat. Taehyung is about to say that staring at Jeongguk's crotch while doing pushups is the metaphoric carrot to his metaphoric horse, and that he doesn't need anything else to motivate him - but he just smiles, liking Jeongguk's suggestion too.

Taehyung is so damn horny when he gets home, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He finally decides to fuck himself with his purple dildo, but feels unsatisfied, somehow on edge, he can't even get the thing in comfortably, so he just lies spread eagle on his back in defeat. All he can think about is Jeongguk's hand on his waist as he does pushups, the gentle push of his palm against his stomach, his hands gripping Taehyung's ankles as he reminds him to keep his feet on the ground. He realizes, to his disappointment, that all these moments of skin to skin contact were because Taehyung was doing something wrong.

He reaches out and grabs his phone, scrolling through his text messages. He stops at Seokjin's text. It's not worth it. He's going to talk about stocks and watch himself in the mirror again while he fucks Taehyung. He thinks about Jeongguk again. His rate is hefty, but he's probably worth it. Sure, Jeongguk might be completely turned off from Taehyung and his lack of physical prowess, but at least Taehyung feels motivated to work-out when he wakes up the next day, even though Sunday is colored in black on his agenda as his 'level one'.

Jeongguk labeled the days in order of difficulty from level one to four, and today, the level one, has the accompanying notes 'meditation, light yoga':. Is painting considered meditating? Taehyung crawls out of his bed, slipping his feet into fur slides. He drags on a pair of boxer-briefs and trudges into his work studio, still groggy from sleep, sitting down on his stool.

He feels the light breeze sliding in from his open window, sending goosebumps up his bare back. He's feeling like white, like egg-shells, with specks of yolk yellow. After an hour he gets up, yawning. He stares down out his window, his hands running up and down the sides of his arms to heat himself up. He watches a couple walk by, holding hands, and Taehyung feels a string of longing deep in his stomach.

The girl's coat is a bright royal blue, almost obnoxiously piercing through the grey weather. Taehyung suddenly starts, remembering Jeongguk asked him to bring a motivating painting to their session. He scrambles to his pile of paintings in the corner of his studio, crouching down, adjusting himself in his briefs before sliding the canvases around, trying to find one he might particularly like. Taehyung has a habit of keeping the ones he thinks have any sort of real artistic value to him hidden in his apartment, only taking them out if there's an art-show or exhibit he particularly cares about that has asked him to showcase.

This pile is good, but it's not his best. He thinks whether he should pick one of his best, for Jeongguk to see, but he quickly dispels the idea because Jeongguk doesn't really care, he's being paid to do this. It's a painting inspired by a particular patch of ocean he stared at on Long Beach after being invited to an art show in California two years ago.

After a particularly nasty hiccup in his relationship with his now ex boyfriend, the genius decided to break up with Taehyung over the phone, long-distance. He had hung up the phone and felt a strong urge to dramatically toss it into the receding water.

He pulled his arm back, bracing, then stopped and just watched the rhythmic waves. It was hypnotic, full of life but calm, like it understood. He sat on the beach, staring for hours, until the sun completely set. He stares at the painting before turning it over and running his index finger over the title on the back: Therapy.

Taehyung attracts some awkward stares as he waddles through the main entrance of the gym on Monday, holding the wrapped canvas protectively as he fits himself through the door. He's a few minutes late, and when he has a chance to look up, he sees Jeongguk standing at the information desk, next to a worried Hoseok, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking stern. Taehyung grins apologetically at him and runs a hand through his nest of hair before using it to steady the painting when it teeters dangerously at his relinquished grip.

Jeongguk's annoyed expression seems to disappear when he notices the wrapped canvas, he licks his lips, letting his arms fall to his; he starts forward to help Taehyung. He holds the sides of the bundle gingerly, allowing Taehyung to stand up straight.

Taehyung pants for a moment then stretches his arms, laughing. Jeongguk is holding onto his painting carefully; Taehyung is endeared. Jeongguk shoots him a small smile. Okay, follow me to the aerobics room. We're going to start with some stretches to loosen you up. That is so vulgar. That is so fucking vulgar, there is no way Jeongguk didn't hear himself say that.

Taehyung decides, though, that Jeongguk seems like an oblivious guy. The stretches don't seem to be too bad, Taehyung realizing he's actually more flexible than he initially thought. It's still hard to really reach his toes, though, on account of his long legs, but he tries anyway. Jeongguk is meticulously unwrapping the canvas as Taehyung does his lying twists on the mat.

He looks up at his trainer, who is staring carefully at the way the canvas is wrapped to prevent doing any damage to it. He smiles up at him from the ground. I chucked it around a few times after I painted it. Jeongguk raises his eyebrows in understanding then lets his eyes roam over the painting, his expression unreadable. Taehyung doesn't usually feel nervous when people look at his art, but for some reason he feels exposed right now, sitting on the cold mat, goosebumps on his bare limbs.

Jeongguk smiles. I mean, I sketch a little but, this sort of thing," he points to the painting, "this seems like it takes a lot of talent. When they're finished here, Jeongguk takes the painting with him to the next room and sets it against the wide window, the sunlight from outside bathing it in yellow, and Taehyung almost prefers the artwork looking like this.

You have a naturally athletic body, so we're going to work on toning," Jeongguk says as he assembles some dumbbells. Taehyung beams even though he knows Jeongguk probably didn't mean that as a compliment. He'll take it.

Jeongguk coaxes him through the list of exercises, and Taehyung is doing well Near the end he feels his energy plummet, like his brain can't pump endorphins anymore. Taehyung points at the bench press. I've seen this. I wanna try this! This proves to be even more nightmarish than the last round, feeling his arms burning as he pulls the ropes towards himself.

He reckons his arms are the weakest part of his body. Jeongguk stands behind him, his chest almost pressed against Taehyung's back, his hands lightly gripping Taehyung's biceps, keeping his form correct as he pulls back again. Keep going, six more. You can slow down, just don't stop the movement.

Taehyung groans, his head falling back, drawing a bark of disappointment from Jeongguk. Look at your painting. Jeongguk pauses, like he wants to question why he even brought it in the first place, but just sighs. When he speaks again his voice is gentle, coaxing. For me, then. Taehyung finally manages before letting himself go limp against Jeongguk's chest.

No more. I'm finished forever. Jeongguk squeezes his biceps and steps back, keeping him upright. Focus, clear your head. Taehyung did squats, once upon a time, after finding out they made his ass look great. He seems to do well now, drawing an impressed sound from Jeongguk. That's fantastic, keep that up," Jeongguk says, and Taehyung is smiling until he turns his head to see Jeongguk holding out weights for him to take while he does the squats. Jeongguk makes a sound that sounds eerily like a laugh but Taehyung is in too much pain to look up.

Taehyung takes a swig and wipes at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. Jeongguk leans back, placing his palms on the mat and dawdles for a few moments. The action would have a child-like innocence if it wasn't for the biceps bulging from under his shirt sleeve. Taehyung inflates a little, then groans at the burn in his thighs. Taehyung watches his trainer's ass cheeks move in his Nike Flex joggers and makes a mental note to buy that same pair in white because damn.

He can't see the outline of Jeongguk's underwear so he's probably wearing boxer-jocks, something to keep everything snug, the fabric cupping his dick and balls just right, all the way down his thighs-. Jeongguk turns around on the spot menacingly, placing a hand on his hips, and the move is almost sassy. You'll be more focused at our next session, right? Jeongguk's eyes are glaring but his mouth is smirking, a new - and probably favorite - combination Taehyung vows to drag out of his trainer as often as he can from this day forward.

That's not going to work with me. It won't work on your trainer. You're not paying me to be nice to you. Two weeks pass and Jeongguk is definitely nicer to Taehyung. He's not nicer in the physical sense - if anything he's pushing him even harder - but he's not so quick to scold Taehyung because of his whining or his general hatred of most the exercises they do.

Taehyung is sure Jeongguk has begun to understand Taehyung's personality and is quickly devising new techniques to help him stay motivated. He tries to perform at least one or two bodyweight drills for Taehyung at the end of each class, shaking his head in embarrassment at how exaggeratedly Taehyung claps for him after each one.

Unfortunately, he does not let Taehyung sit on his back while he does push-ups, but he does allow him to place weighted plates with increasing kilograms. He has also allowed Taehyung to bring his own music to play during some of their more repetitive work-outs, though he claims he does not understand how Singing in the Rain helps Taehyung focus or keep a good rhythm going.

Regardless, he lets Taehyung do it, and Taehyung really appreciates that. His favorite of all the additions to their sessions is the twenty minute outdoor run Jeongguk sporadically suggests throughout the week after Taehyung's work-outs. They both wear beanies and wind-breakers which Taehyung loves then go for a refreshing run around the neighborhood. They don't talk unless Taehyung really can't help himself from pointing out a cute child or a dog breed he wants, but he still loves this time the most.

Feeling the cold wind stinging his face, reddening his nose, hearing Jeongguk panting next to him, his posture never breaking, feeling fingers against his own back when Taehyung hunches, pushing him back up straight. Taehyung knows his little crush has turned into a pretty big one, one that isn't as easy to ignore anymore - but he tries anyway. Yoongi is looking at Taehyung with his hands in his pockets and his back hunched, like Taehyung is a stain on his shirt.

Taehyung stops humming as he signs the artist card on the wall next to his painting. He caps the pen then glances over at him. I have a personal trainer and I'm in love with him and I want him to fuck the shit out of me," Taehyung says excitedly, leaning in to grit out the last bit of his sentence a little quieter when the gallery patron walks by and flashes them a smile. Taehyung figures his whole 'ignore my feelings for the well being of my working out goals' has not been going well.

Even with Yoongi's lack-luster responses to almost everything Taehyung says to him, he still manages to be one of the few art-folk in this city that Taehyung mostly enjoys being around. He's almost like a piece of art himself, inanimate but full of life at the same time, and refreshingly honest.

Still, he wouldn't exactly say they're friends. Teahyung brought one of his newer paintings to display at the show this coming Friday, one with bright colors and curled lines, like a mashed up board of flattened confetti. Yoongi's painting on the other hand, echoes the typical cubism he general exhibits - sharp, straight lines, faded hues.

The two paintings look obvious next to each other like this, any idiot could match them to the corresponding artist standing in front of them, like they're children instead of combinations of colors and shapes. But Beethoven wasn't especially known for his quiet style, either, and Taehyung figures he can't hide his personality from his art even if he wants to.

He glances over to catch Yoongi giving him a look of mild disdain mixed with the remnants of a smile. Having sex with your personal trainer seems really fucking stupid, actually," Yoongi says, his tone casual. Taehyung frowns. Just out of curiousity, though -and be honest - on a scale of one to ten, what am I, physically? Ten being the best, obviously. Really think this through, I'm not doing great on the self-esteem front this mo-". Come on. You're an asshole," Taehyung says glumly, reaching down to pick up an arm full of bubble-wrap and tape he discarded after unwrapping his painting.

Taehyung stands up straight, his arms full of plastic, pieces of tape sticking to his over-sized mohair coat. If you deducted five points to get to a four. Yoongi rolls his eyes so far back into his skull Taehyung thinks he might sever his optic nerve. How can you seriously use a scale like that to measure aesthetics.

You know, show him my art. Yoongi snorts quietly, but the noise is jarring, dragging Taehyung back down to reality. He doesn't give a shit about Dadaism. And there it is. That genuine cynicism. That's why Taehyung feels so lonely in this city. He glances at his painting and suddenly feels like half the colors look less vibrant than they did when he first hung it on the wall.

His fingers are hitting the top of his shoes and he inflates with pride. Jeongguk glances up from readjusting a pull-up bar. Don't move up so fast from stretching, you'll hurt yourself," Jeongguk snaps, but he's smiling back at the bar now. He probably spends more time shaking out stretches than he does actually doing them. This has annoyed Jeongguk more than once. Jeongguk looks confused for a moment then scratches the back of his neck in thought.

But I think I'd enjoy it, yeah. Don't forget your calf stretches. Taehyung bends down into the downward-dog. I have some paintings on display, including a new one I'm unveiling. Jeongguk doesn't answer and Taehyung glances up from his awkward position. He looks like he's having some sort of internal argument with himself.

Taehyung doesn't know if his face is filling with blood because of his position or from fear of Jeongguk rejecting his offer. I just thought. I mean, you said you really like art He licks his lips and nods. What time is it? Taehyung gets up from his bent position incredibly slowly, making a point to smile at Jeongguk along the entire way, and the trainer chuckles at the display, shaking his head. You should definitely come by," Taehyung says when he finally straightens out.

Taehyung spends a great deal of time fussing mentally over the art show, which in turn leaves him little time to actually get ready. He doesn't bring up the exhibit for the entirety of next week's sessions, hoping silently instead, that Jeongguk remembers.

He opts for a fashionably over-sized maroon blouse and a pair of plaid cropped trousers. He moisturizes his face and dabs Carmex on his lips, finding that these little additions make him look infinitely better, naturally adding color to his face. He isn't nervous because he's done this hundreds of times before. Just mingle with the other artists, answer questions, then check sales at the end of the night and see if any of the clients bite.

Most of his more expensive art has already been sold at the gallery's pre-sale, where most of the obsessive clients flock. Taehyung has a pretty decent list of regulars, which also adds to his level of ease. Trying to get his art appreciated in the first place was the initial step, back when he first started out, and with that era came the majority of his nerves. Now, most the fuss is involved with Taehyung pretending he genuinely likes these people he has to come in contact with.

These vapid, condescending, or just down-right rude people who, at some points, Taehyung can not believe share the same profession as him. The clients are even worse. And this is coming from someone who genuinely likes dealing with people. When you start selling art, you open a very large can of worms.

The gallery is already half full when he gets there even though the artists are typically supposed to show up earlier. Taehyung sees Yoongi speaking to one of his old clients, holding a martini glass in his hand. He's smiling but Taehyung can see he doesn't want to be here either. Taehyung makes his way over to the minibar and it takes him almost ten minutes because he's stopping every few steps to chat with artists or clients, flashing them convincing smiles and touching them fondly on the arm to successfully convince them that he doesn't actually hate being here right now.

He turns around hoping to God that through some miracle it's Jeongguk, but it isn't. It's Seokjin. Kim Seokjin is standing in front of him, smiling awkwardly. What do you mean 'ignoring'? Seokjin looks puzzled, which is a good sign. I'm in town for the next few months, for a bid I have with my dad's company, thought maybe you'd want to hang out. You never responded. Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, pouting in thought.

Seokjin smiles, like that wasn't a shitty, mean joke, looking down at his outrageously expensive shoes. Like, really good. Can I get you a drink? Taehyung tilts his head to the side and increases the voltage of his smile. Unfortunately, that comes across as an invitation and Taehyung didn't think it through properly this is Seokjin after all because Seokjin is already hunched over the minibar ordering two gin and tonics.

He sighs, inwardly, taking the drink pleasantly and sipping at it slowly while Seokjin talks. And talks. He talks about how he's in town for a few months during the bid, and how he's here to buy some paintings for his father's birthday, and about some other useless things, but Taehyung has already put him on mute.

His eyes travel around the room as Seokjin is droning on in his head and finally they settle on Yoongi, who appears to be talking to-. Taehyung closes in on Yoongi, and no it was not a trick of light, he is actually standing next to Taehyung's painting and talking to an aggressively delicious looking Jeongguk who holds a pamphlet in his hand and yes, yes this is his fantasy. Jeongguk is talking, but as he speaks to Yoongi he looks up and notices Taehyung bulldozing towards them.

His previously conversational features relax into a comfortable smile and Taehyung feels throat close up. Oh my God, hi! You came! Yeah, I finished early, so," Jeongguk says as Taehyung all but shoves Yoongi towards the wall. He makes it look good, though, standing lazily, arms crossed, hand holding a wine glass.

No, a ten today. He's wearing a black pea-coat over a plain black t-shirt, and it's loose, which Taehyung supposes is meant to be subtle, but the way the shirt's fabric subtly creases between his pecks is almost sexier than if he had been standing there nude. Taehyung laughs and usually he's good at pretending but this laugh comes across as a little weird and high pitched and Yoongi twitches at the nightmarish sound. I'm going to go. Do something, I don't know," Yoongi mumbles and starts to walk away from the two.

He's a little weird," Taehyung says, relaxing in Jeongguk's calm presence. Jeongguk's eyes shift to Taehyung's painting after a moment. I'd hang this one in my apartment," Jeongguk says, glancing over at Taehyung who's demeanor shifts, in a hopefully not obvious way, to pleasure.

You like it? Taehyung nods. I had a lot on my mind. Which, I mean, I usually do. But I had more on my mind than usual when I made this one. Imagined what it would be like if someone was shrunk down to a microscopic size and injected into my brain meat. The colors and sights he would see floating around in there, the synapses firing off. It would probably be really overwhelming. I'm pretty overwhelming, you know?

Jeongguk isn't staring at his painting, he's looking directly at Taehyung, his eyebrows raised, his mouth slightly open, engaged. You're really good at this art stuff. I mean, I don't know how to word that compliment, but I meant it as one," Jeongguk says, finally, when Taehyung just stares back at him embarrassed. The entire fantasy crashes into a pile of fire, metal, and engines, though, because Taehyung hears Seokjin clear his throat politely to the left and they both turn to face him.

When the fuck did he even get here? He looks pissed. About that thing. Taehyung is horrified, but he snaps his face into a polite smile anyway. He's certain his eyes are dead. Okay, bye," he says, his neck burning up. He sees Seokjin smile and give Jeongguk a quick up-down, like he's calculating his threat level before he turns around to leave, hands busy texting away on his phone.

Taehyung slowly turns back to his painting and hopes Jeongguk just continues talking about his painting, or disease, or famine, honestly, anything other than Seokjin. But he doesn't. Sometimes my mouth just says things, and then," Taehyung makes a vomiting gesture to signify what happens when his mouth works on its own.

It was inappropriate. Really," Taehyung says, unable to hide how upset he is and hating himself for it. He leans in and looks intently at a specific point on his painting, as though he's just noticed something that wasn't there before. Taehyung straightens up and looks at Jeongguk, giving him the brightest smile he can muster which is probably pretty mediocre compared to his usual bravado. I mean, as a personal trainer.

Thanks for the work you do," Taehyung continues. He sounds petty. Taehyung stands in front of the painting for few more minutes, well after Jeongguk leaves. He doesn't move when he feels Yoongi's presence fill the empty spot that was filled a little while ago by the person who is his personal trainer and will never be anything more than that. And then he went on to call me his client," Taehyung states monotonously, his baritone revved.

Taehyung finally looks up, and says, tersely, "No, Yoongi. I didn't. That's the thing. I couldn't even expect him to say 'friend'. That's the worst part. We're not even friends , and I have this huge, stupid, crush on him, I'm inviting him to my fucking art shows. I'm embarrassing. I'm a mess. Yoongi just nods and takes a sip out of his now empty glass, the icecubes hitting his lips in vain.

Taehyung spends the next few days recuperating in his apartment; he's hibernating. The emotional sting dies down after he adds more layers to his painting in the living room, appreciating how beautiful it all looks together anyway, regardless of the pain. He goes through two bottles of wine in one night and by the morning he's 'over it', albeit hungover. He hired Jeongguk to help Taehyung get fit, and Taehyung's getting fit, so he should be happy.

He is happy. It has only been a month but he's already made a lot of progress. He hasn't lost any weight, since that was never the goal, but he has noticed a change in his thighs and his ass - taking squats slightly more seriously than the rest of his exercises has actually paid off, he thinks as he stares at himself in the mirror. The fat has rearranged itself nicely in the places he wants.

He turns around so his faces the mirror and pulls his underwear down to his thighs, twisting back to examine the reflection of his butt. He flexes his cheeks then lets go. He pulls up his underwear then runs a hand down his stomach - no six-pack, but he's finally achieved that ab-crack he's been wanting, even when Jeongguk tells him not to focus on it. It's slight, but it's there, and it's fucking pretty. Taehyung considers a belly-piercing and it's probably the gayest idea he has ever had, but after two bottles of wine he's feeling especially gay.

When their next session comes up, Jeongguk's compliments fall a little flat. They spend little time talking about the exhibit, even though Jeongguk seems to genuinely want to discuss. Presently, Taehyung is lying in his preferred position - spread eagle - on the yoga mat, staring up at the ceiling, feeling sweat trickle down the sides of his cheeks from under his headband. Jeongguk smiles and Taehyung feels it at the back of his heart, "I'll be back, I'm going to grab some copies of your itinerary for next week.

After a moment he gets up with a groan, hands on his waist, leaning back to stretch out his sore stomach. He wanders over to the bench press, running a hand across the cold bar, curious. He squats down with effort to look at the weight numbers.

Forty-five kilograms seems like a pretty safe number. He spins the weights into place on opposite ends of the bar and shuffles onto the bench, gripping it. He breaths in and slowly pushes the bar out of place and up in the air - this is surprisingly easy. He holds it in place, encouraged, then starts to lower it. About half-way down, he realizes forty-five kilograms is probably way, way too heavy because there's no way he's going to be able to push this thing back up.

This is stupid, even for Taehyung. He's trying to stop himself from panicking at this point as the bar slowly closes in on his chest. Taehyung can see the headlines tomorrow: Fucking idiot found dead on bench with fifty pound weight gouged into his neck. Even though he feels surprisingly calm, his vision begins to go black from the edges. He assumes this is the warm embrace of death. The last thing he hears is a concerned yell, and the last thing he sees before complete darkness is is a blurry, fair face with a shock of black hair standing over him.

When he comes to, he's lying on the mat and Jeongguk crouching next to him, both hands closed around the sides of his neck, supporting it. Do you have any idea how incredibly stupid, how incredibly dangerous that was?

Jeongguk hisses as he sits back with a hand against his forehead, eyes closed. He looks genuinely worried and Taehyung finally feels the dam break, seeping guilt into his system. Jeongguk positions himself with one hand behind Taehyung's neck, the other sliding under Taehyung, against his lower back. Okay, now push yourself up slowly with your hands. How does your neck feel, do you feel any pain?

Jeongguk stands up, doing that exhalation thing he does, which Taehyung now realizes is his method to calm himself. Now his trainer is upset, probably hates him forever, never wants to look at him again. It's his first fucking lesson. It's okay," Jeongguk says, reaching down for Taehyung to take his hand.

He helps pull him up slowly. Hoseok looks at Taehyung, worried, as Taehyung slowly makes his way out. He offers Hoseok a pathetic smile and a slight wave, because even in this state he wants to seem like he's' fine to everyone else. Jeongguk is writing on a sheet of paper Taehyung assumes is some sort of injury report as he walks out of the gym, but he glances up momentarily to look at Taehyung and his expression makes Taehyung feel like he never wants to come back. Plain text with limited HTML?

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i d flex but i like this

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