#been having weird stutters since i bought this computer for school last summer. just found out Why today

[alteredbeast]

windows 11 was a mistake

[ilovjeon]

push your buttons | chapter one.

pairing: taehyung & jeongguk

genre: fluff, enemies to lovers n professional gaming (◕‿◕✿) (and smut!)

word count: 4.6k

summary: kim taehyung's life had become a routine:

1. get home from a long-winded day of something that he did not care about 2. make the journey to his bedroom - where he will stay for the rest of the night. 3. reach into his stack of ramen cups and collapse onto his stained apeach beanbag. 4. play video games.

and that was about it, until he met jeon jeongguk and a rivalry had begun.

Rain becomes beads on Taehyung’s window, the panes being painted by the light of his monitor and the cling of droplets. It was the pitter patter that almost seemed like an alternative soundtrack to a scene in a rom-com; the best girl laid out on her sheets, rain falling against her rooftop and some sad Joy Division playing on some old-timey record player to appease the mature audience. But all ambience was lost to the sound of gunfire and Taehyung’s jeers as he beat at his controller, screaming obscenities into his earpiece.

“Headshot, motherfuckers!”

A groan from the other end, “I have spawned in the same place eight times at this point and you are always there! I swear the game developers are your fans.”

Taehyung switched to an LMG, unloading bullets upon the pixelated characters that ran at him. “You’d think they would sponsor me if they were.” Taehyung’s legs twitched with every movement upon the screen, Seokjin beating his own fast fingers, shooting him down, “Oh, come on!”

“I really don’t mean to offend you, Tae,” Seokjin laughed as if he knew Taehyung was aware of what he was about to say - hint: he was. “I don’t think people would be influenced by a man that goes by xX_Dark-angel-Tae.tae_Xx, you know?”

Taehyung found himself on top of the ferris wheel, switching over to his - fully upgraded, may he add! - favourite sniper. Eyeing Seokjin through the scope, he replied blandly, “Ha. Never heard that one before.”

“I’m just saying, if you want to be taken seriously, think about changing that one.”

Aim, Taehyung squinted as if he were the one holding his weapon. Lining it up and fire! Seokjin whined as a bold, red title became a banner across his screen: dead. “It’s my branding now. No going back.” Taehyung jolted as an enemy had stealthily snuck behind him, his leg knocking the ramen cartons against his stained carpet. “I’m a verified dark angel now.”

“Beam me up then, please.”

“Jin,” Taehyung said, matter-of-factly, absentmindedly pushing the brim of his glasses up his nose, “That’s aliens, not angels.” Continuing, “And technically dark angels are from below so the correct term would be ‘drag me down’.”

Seokjin broke into song and then followed up with a cry as he was, unsurprisingly, shot by Taehyung. “Don’t let this get to your head, this is a once and a lifetime compliment by yours truly, but you’re pretty good.”

Taehyung let it get to his head, “And you’re pretty bad.”

“How about you go fuck yourself, Taehyung? Does that sound good?” Seokjin’s breath was fluctuating as if he had just ran a marathon and wasn’t sitting down playing a video game.

“Whoa, Seokjin. The aggression is up here,” Although Seokjin couldn’t see, Taehyung gestured high above him. “And we will need to bring it down here.”

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.”

Taehyung smiled, “That’s okay, Mr. Kim.”

“Don’t you have school tomorrow?” Seokjin mumbled through the crunch of Cheetos. “Looks to be just about your bedtime.”

Taehyung’s eyes turned to his alarm clock, flashing red numbers were yelling at him, saying it was 4:32 in the morning. “I can go another 30 minutes.”

“Do I have to daddy up here, Kim Taehyung?” Seokjin’s voice loudened, taking on that of an uncle. “Get your ass to bed, you stud.”

“On it, chief,” A lilt of his voice in question. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we will film for my stream next.”

Taehyung grunted in response, checking in at his save point and shutting down his console. A smile into the camera, and then a click of a button and he was now in his own reality. No alternates. No animated characters. No hero ending.

He was Kim Taehyung instead of xX_Dark-angel-Tae.tae_Xx; and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Sometimes it was hard disassociating one from the other.

And with that thought, Taehyung fell asleep dreaming of some place far away from Daegu.

If it weren’t for the fact that Taehyung’s mother had picked up the mass of ramen cartons from the night before, Taehyung would have been able to eat the remains for breakfast that morning from the warm confines of his bed.

10 minutes until school, he could make his cereal in 2. He could wash his face with the soap he had bought for a dollar that smelt of musk and wood - Taehyung had the lavender in his hand but couldn’t brave the cashier, damn gender normalities! - in 1. He could slip into his shirt that was plagued with wrinkles and fumble into his pants in 3 minutes - and, oh God, is that another stain? 6 minutes in total and he hadn’t even calculated the bus trip.

But Kim Taehyung’s teachers would have already marked him as present and wouldn’t even read his name aloud because Kim Taehyung was predictable and a millennial in the digital world.

It was expected of him to be late at this point in the semester.

Pounding feet down stairs and a backpack loose on his shoulder, “I’m leaving now, see you tonight.”

“Do you need money for the bus?” His mother called.

Taehyung fiddled with the glasses at the brim of his nose, rubbing at the glass with a balled fist of fabric. “No, but could you please answer some of my emails while I’m gone? I read one this morning from T.I Corp and couldn’t understand a word.”

“Of course, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And Taehyung was gone and, holy shit, the bus stop is 2 blocks away and the hum of an engine behind him signalled that if he didn’t run, it would be leaving without him.

Skipping third period had become a tradition and to go to class instead of the computer hall would be sacrilege. They were nerds but do you still constitute as a nerd if you skip class? Ironic.

Taehyung’s group of friends had first bonded over the fact that almost all of them came from independent junior schools, coming to their now high school as friendless and severely uncool in their bright coloured socks and graphic tees that would have been cool in 2009. They needed someone to sit with at lunchtime and so they came together as 5 kids that didn���t do much in their leisure time.

“I swear to God, if I get paired with Seungkwan again for physics I will lose my mind. He can see I have headphones in and he still tries to start a conversation.” Yoongi was a prodigy; he seemed to teach instruments how to play music in a weird reverse roleplay and, even though he never seemed to show up to class, he maintained his A’s.

Jimin beat against the mouse, the blocks becoming puzzle pieces, fitting into each other. “He’s nice. I’m with him in calculus, he said he would tutor me for free.” The neutraliser of the group; he had always been kind. People seemed to flock to him, drawn.

“That’s because he wants to fuck you underneath the bleachers,” Namjoon said knowingly. He was the last to join, Taehyung bringing him beneath his wing when Namjoon had begun to slip him his homework to copy. Taehyung hadn’t gotten below an A since.

Hoseok slapped at Namjoon’s shoulder and jeered from his relaxed state in his chair, an energy drink in his other hand. “Sounds like somebody in this room, no?”

“She needed help on her assignment, I couldn’t say no.”

Hoseok, “Was the assignment about finding her clit in the dark?”

A giggle from Namjoon, “Yeah, it was an easy A.”

Taehyung’s eyes have begun to fade, his reading glasses aiding him to no effect. The screen had become too bright and too crass on his fading vision and maybe he shouldn’t have played until 4 in the morning the night before his fourth period geography test. “Summer break soon, right?”

“Next week, thank you God!” Hoseok punched the air.

“God didn’t invent summer break,” Yoongi added.

“I don’t care who invented summer break, I just know that the parentals will be out of town which, you guessed it folks,” A dramatic wave of his hand, “A renowned Jung house party.”

A rosy blush had cast itself across Jimin’s cheeks and Namjoon pinched at them, “Did that trigger a memory, Park?”

Stuttering, “N-No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung, with eyes still focused on Tetris and and the electronic backing track, “We know you had sex with Chanwoo on the 8th, we saw you.”

“Saw me?” Jimin began spluttering, “How could you have seen me?”

Yoongi, his voice a little too loud, competing with the music being carried through his headphones, “You were on the balcony, you voyeurist.”

Jimin’s hand became numb and he had already lost his game against the CP he was battling. “Fuck you guys.” And in urgent need of a subject change, Jimin beckoned Taehyung for help. “So, Tae, your competition is on Sunday, right?”

Taehyung could see Jimin in the screen’s reflection and his wide eyes demanded an answer before his friend’s began to continue their anecdote about his sex life. “Yeah. It’s not really a competition - it’s a convention. Moongold Studio’s asked me to be a player in a match against another influencer.”

“Do you know who yet?” Hoseok says after he takes a swig of his energy drink, as if he needed any more.

“Nope,” Taehyung said, defeated after his blocks ominously began to pile, the music fastening as they began to reach the top. “I told them that Seokjin is a good live entertainer, but they thought he wasn’t eliteenough.”

Namjoon, “You fucking nerd. You’re classed as an elite gamer.”

“I’m also elite in fucking your mom.”

“You know what,” Yoongi said, taking one headphone out of his ear. “I’d rather sit with Seungkwan in physics than listen to your shit banter.”

And, just like Cady Heron has insightfully recited in Mean Girls , Taehyung would never know what happened in third period Film Studies on a Thursday. He would only know that these 5 boys were the only friends he ever needed.

The convention was the nerd-fest that onlookers would have expected; the streets were stormed by men and women alike dressed as their favourite characters from any of a variety of Moongold Studio’s games and Taehyung felt excluded in his average every-man wear.

It had been set up by the founder and co-founder of the company and it seemed as though they made an effort with their location, the hall being surrounded by worker bees sitting in their cold office penthouse in the inner city and cafes and other consumerist establishments that look out their window in question. Taehyung imagined that young suited men sipped on their black coffee while eyeing him from across the street.

So, Taehyung pushed his glasses further up his nose and walked with purpose.

A hand pushed Taehyung’s chest, “You’re here for the convention?” The word ‘SECURITY’ had been written in neon yellow upon the man’s black vest, as if the badge wasn’t enough. His hairline had already receded into his scalp and the hairs that remained were coloured blonde – midlife crisis?

Taehyung raised his lanyard, “Special guest.”

The guard laughed because he could. “Special guest – I see.”

Taehyung felt his cheeks become the shade of the woman’s hair that was behind him in line. It was a vivid red and it matched the rouge that was swiped on her cheek. “I’m glad you can see, sir. We should all count our blessings; take care of your health!”

And he pushed past him and let the lobbyist open the door for him because he was an influencer, a special guest. People open doors for you when you have status. Taehyung thought about the men and women he had opened doors for just a few hours ago and the concept of power play in our society – but to keep from having an existential crisis among masses of thousands of people, he decided to let the latter become a repressed memory.

It would be easy to get lost among the crowd; each stall was set up fashionably on the perimeter of the hall, which caused a frenzy of perspired arms and clammy flesh to cluster together like sardines. It was a labyrinth of screens and booming sound effects but it fell upon Taehyung’s half deaf ears as he made his way through the masses, attempting to find his place backstage.

It wasn’t hard to find the stage, not as difficult as Taehyung would have thought. There was a large setup that overlooked the rest of the convention – like a summit. The dais was more extravagant than expected, the neon lights becoming prisms of teal and pink upon the tables that were topped with three screens. There were two, directly across from each other. Adrenaline coursed through Taehyung.

This wasn’t his first time playing Multiply in front of a crowd; it was as if Taehyung was a seasoned veteran at this gig. Every summer the studio would send the same automated email and his mother wouldn’t tell Taehyung before writing a simple, sure!

But, he was a lone wolf in the gaming scene. He wasn’t apart of a league, nor did he collaborate with any other gamer besides Seokjin in a live stream. Taehyung was known as Dark Angel and his fans had multiplied tenfold in the past year after he had cut his hair that reached past his shoulders. Shallow, huh?

Taehyung pulled his hood over his head and kept his eyes down, careful not to showcase his face to the masses. He didn’t need to be mobbed today, nor did he ever.

The only time Taehyung had looked up from his measly excuse of a disguise was to watch the short video that appeared on the screen above the stage. His head was brandished across the screen along with his online handle and he had noticed it was from his first photo-shoot in 2015. Maybe leafy green dye wasn’t the way to go.

“And, a special guest!”

But there was a blank silhouette and Taehyung felt like a downgrade – why didn’t he deserve the dramatics?

He approached the entrance backstage, the stairs blocked by another built body adorned in the same neon yellow font to assert his power. “Name?”

“Kim Taehyung,” And when he was met with silence, “ Dark Angel .” Again, Taehyung wished that his fourteen-year-old self had thought out his handle just a little further.

Guard, “xX_Dark-angel-Tae.tae_Xx ?”

A sigh, “I- Yes.”

He laughed heartily, it rumbled from deep within his chest – he reminded Taehyung of Santa Claus. “I’m just messing with you. My kid likes you, talks about you all the time at the dinner table; I knew who you were.”

“Oh, really?” Taehyung asked.

The guard introduced himself as Kyung-won, telling him shortly that his son played often – and that, surprisingly, Taehyung was his favourite streamer. “He hasn’t eaten a meal with us in months; he leaves his dinner in the oven so he eats with you at 7 pm.”

That would have been heart-warming if Taehyung liked kids. “I feel like the Pied Piper, I’m sorry,” He laughed. “I love kids.”

Kyung-won's chin wobbled as he droned on, he had a sweet looking face. It was fatherly. But, Taehyung couldn’t help but stare at the countdown on the main stage and the numbers couldn’t help but stare back. Only half an hour and people were beginning to flock to seats closest to the dais, excited chatter ensuing.  

“I’m really sorry, but I think I need to get fitted right now.”

Kyung-won's eyes become wide as he realises that Taehyung had approached backstage for a reason, his chins totter as he apologises and Taehyung thinks about how lonely this guard must be. He imagines his future and wonders whether he will take up a job as a security guard at a low budget gaming convention with a son who he hasn’t spoken to in months.  

Taehyung is pushed through the door and backstage wasn’t the Coke and Bacardi fest that anyone would have envisioned. There was a couch, suspicious stains lining the cushions and Taehyung would rather not think about what they could be. The table was stocked with various juices and sodas; were they supplying for 10-year-olds? Maybe his opponent was.

Taehyung was handed a jumpsuit, black and red with Moongold’s emblem emblazoned on the breast. Dragon’s were painted across each nipple and Taehyung wished that the designers had thought out the design more thoroughly. “Thank you, I wasn’t expecting such high budget design.”

“Only the best for the star of the show,” His assistant smiled; she was pretty in a normal way.

He shouldn’t be shy, she was the only person in the room but he still told her, “Would you please turn around?”

She did as he said and began to talk, ranting about Moongold’s latest game series that they wanted Taehyung to promote. “It will be the best in our franchise. We have built realistic characters, ones that a player would relate to. Cosplays, fan interactions, even adaptations could ensue after it is released.”

Taehyung’s shirt was off and he felt exposed, it was only when he was beginning to unbutton his jeans that he saw the cameras and blushed. “Creators think about cosplays and tweets?”

“Of course we do. Do you think we make games for fun,” She laughed – her laugh was menacing and Taehyung wondered if she was the antagonist of his story. “It’s all about the money in this industry, and promotions bring it in.”

The door opened and Taehyung felt his body jump, hands covering his body as he fumbled to grab a piece of fabric to cover up.  

“Hello?”

Taehyung was hidden behind the couch when his eyes finally turned to find a man’s silhouette beside the door; how had he not noticed the screams coming from beyond backstage? The man’s hair was mussed and there was a slight sheen on his brow, but he smiled. So Taehyung, with his half-naked body still concealed, muttered back a, “Hello."

“I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked.”

“It’s okay."

His eyebrows quirked at the sight of the couch, “Why does that look like a cum stain?”

Taehyung was wide-eyed and he felt his finger twitch, “I promise it wasn’t me.”

He laughed and Taehyung liked the sound, it was genuine.  “That’s what a guilty person would say.”

“I guess I’m exposed,” Taehyung lifted his arms above his head and the man giggled – giggled, to reiterate.

He grinned, “By the way, I’m Jeongguk. I don’t think we’ve met?” Taehyung knew who he was. He couldn’t not know Jeon Jeongguk. Jeon69, quite the iconic handle. The most viewed game streams on MotionBox. Taehyung was in a humble seventh place on the leaderboard and he couldn’t help but be competitive when faced with Jeongguk and his army of fans.

A salute, “Kim Taehyung. I don’t think we have.”

The woman had a flush when she handed Jeongguk his custom jumpsuit, eyes averted as she muttered, “For you.”

He simply smiled boyishly back at her and began undressing. As if he were alone in his room, like Taehyung and his assistant weren’t gawking at the definition of his biceps, the lines of muscles on his torso. What gamer is this jacked?

Taehyung thought about his Apeach bean bag and the abundance of empty ramen cups that surrounded it.

It was yellow, black stripes lining the pant leg and fire circling its hem. If Taehyung had worn that outfit, he would look like a cheap Beatrix Kiddo impersonator - the kind you see in swarms on Hollywood Boulevard. But Jeongguk looked cool, and he resented the fact that this fiasco that looked reminiscent of Gru’s minions could possibly look akin to the word ‘cool'.

But, it was when Taehyung finally slipped into his own outfit from his place behind the couch, peaking over the perimeter to see Jeongguk looking at him with those honeyed eyes that he felt a thunder in his heart.

“You hear that?” Jeongguk smiled, gesturing to outside the doors. A countdown. 54, 53, 52. “It’s time.”

From behind tasselled curtains, Taehyung could hear the host begin his introduction, greeting the audience. “If you think about it, the MC’s job is to prep and lube an audience.”

Lube an audience? Did Taehyung think that they were being prepared for a fucking and not a live gaming tournament? Taehyung felt his cheeks bloom in red, why had he said that? But Jeongguk giggled, “Sexy.”

If it were possible for a heartbeat to bruise your ribs, Taehyung was sure his own would be flowering blue and purples by the end of tonight. He only felt this way when playing Minecraft - a dirty pleasure, one that will be sealed for all of eternity if Taehyung could help it.

Taehyung was too alienated in his own thoughts that he barely heard Jeongguk say, “Hey, Taehyung, we need to get out there.” But he felt the tug on his hand and felt the warmth that had blanketed him for that split second and then it was gone, lost to the air.

Jeongguk strode across the stage with ease, hands in the air as if he were embracing the loud cheers that emerged from the audience. Taehyung quickly rushed to his seat, waving quickly to the viewers and hiding the grin as he saw his friends in his peripheral vision.

“Kim Taehyung!” Jimin screamed, lifting his poster high in the air - Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin gesturing wildly to the words emblazoned across the pink piece of paper; ‘You suck, Taehyung.’ Yoongi was sat in his chair, scrolling through his phone, but with his eyes still on the screen, pumped his hand in the air.

“Multiply offers a multi-player feature that has recently been upgraded with new settings, allowing real-time multiplayer gaming sessions. No lag, just stress-free gaming.”

Taehyung adorned his red headset and fidgeted with his fingers, the static leaving his hand feeling detached from his limb. Now is not the time, body. He could hear Jeongguk crack his knuckles, his fingers relaxed against the mouse as if he were in a PC Cafe and not about to participate in a live match. Did he really have no faith in Taehyung’s ability?

“Today we are joined with Kim Taehyung, ranked seventh on our worldwide chart and ranked second in fan interactions!” Of course, cheers from the crowd. “And to his right, we have none other but Jeon Jeongguk, our number one in all categories!” Of course, louder cheers from the crowd. “Oh, look at that smile.”

And Taehyung did look, and he wished he hadn’t because now he was caught off guard. His eyes crinkled at the sides, nose scrunched; bunny-like.

“10, 9-” Wait, what? People from the crowd begun to yell, different phrases that sounded akin to ‘Taehyung! Load your character!’ and a variety of different curses, coloured in anguish.

“6, 5, 4-” Taehyung’s hand moved heavily against the mouse, cursor flying over his character that shared his own clothing design. The numbness in his hand did not cease and it felt as if it were nothing but a limp blood vessel. Taehyung wished that he had been ambidextrous.

And the bell rang and Taehyung’s character hadn’t loaded onto his screen yet; no lag, my ass! A nervous tap against the right key, breath halting as the bar began to fill. There was an assault on Taehyung’s ears as Jeongguk’s rifle unloaded bullets loudly, his victims scream bloody and harrowing. Taking his eyes off of his own screen for a split second allowed him to see Jeongguk’s jumbo screen on the wall - already 459 points and 9 kills in the 10 seconds that Taehyung’s game began to load.

“You going to join me yet, Angel ?” Jeongguk chuckled, mockingly.

Taehyung frowned, a retort ready, but his monitor had loaded and he had spawned into the thick of the fight. A hoard of pixelated characters had drawn their guns but Taehyung was already upon them, his favourite gun; compact with a sleek silver exterior, his magazine would be big enough to dispatch everyone in the area without having to reload.

Jeongguk was there too, though, an FP6 in hand. Taehyung would have called this an amateur’s mistake if he hadn’t known it was the top streamer he had been talking about. Why would he bring a shotgun to a mass shootout?

But maybe Taehyung had underestimated Jeongguk because his gun had more impact than his own LMG, his points racking up more than Taehyung. And just like that, Jeongguk had taken the lead by a longshot and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to catch up.

Firing in rapid succession, Taehyung attempted to gain traction, mounting a water tank, aiming steadily down at the sea of people.

“You might as well sit back and enjoy the crowd.” Jeongguk arched at an eyebrow at Taehyung and jerked his head to the screaming audience. “You aren’t going to redeem yourself at this point.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows knit together as he focused, “Got quite a mouth on you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and I know how to use it,” Jeongguk’s tongue poked at his cheek and Taehyung could feel his cheeks heat up. The jumbo screen zoomed in on Taehyung’s face and he wished he could recede into his skin.

Taehyung had gained on Jeongguk while he had been speaking, but not by much. The only thing he could possibly do, which may be impossible looking at the distance between each of their characters, was to kill him.

Taehyung tried to use his stealth to hop off the water tank and into an area more secure; an area closer to Jeongguk. While his charismatic monologue continued, the crowd giggling at his crude insults aimed at Taehyung, he hid behind a stack of hay.

And Jeongguk had finished gunning down his enemies, but he still remained standing in the centre of the shelter. Taehyung, his lips pressed into a harsh line, looked over to Jeongguk to see him drinking an energy drink, looking at Taehyung with a raised brow. “Give it a whirl, angel. I thought I might need to help you out, you know, it’s good to help those in need.”

Taehyung’s heart pounded, but not in the way that it did before. Who did he think he was? “Oh, aren’t you charitable?”

“Only the best for you, darling,” Jeongguk winked.

So, Taehyung aimed his gun, taking his sweet time in focusing on the back of Jeongguk’s head. Ready, Aim. But, someone else had fired and now the word ‘dead’ had appeared on his screen in red cursive and Jeongguk leaned back in his chair, cocky.

His fans erupted in the crowd and the MC had made his way back to the stage in his glasses that were too big for his face, excitedly asking whether the crowd had enjoyed the match. Taehyung eyed his friends that sat in the first row; Hoseok shrugged and gestured back to the words on his poster. This was the first time Taehyung had lost against a competitor at a convention.

Jeongguk got up, and so did Taehyung. Walking toward each other, Jeongguk wore the same rabbit smile he had before the match had started - when Taehyung had thought he were nothing more than a kid. He extended his hand and Taehyung had taken it, the warmth was back but it didn't feel as it had behind the curtains. Jeongguk drew him over with a pull of his hand until his lips were next to his ear, hot breath against the shell of his ear making his hair stand up. "Sorry."

Fuck you, Jeon Jeongguk.

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