Namjoon is an art himself. Shame that he's forbidden - he's your brother's best friend. And your colleague.
⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
disclaimer: please, be aware this series contains mature content such as strong language and smut
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✫ ✧ ˚ . * ✷ ˚ ✫
Your assumption had been right – your morning is really about to be the worst. Without even properly opening your eyes, you've woken up with stomachache and vomits scratching the back of your throat, just enough for you to snap your eyes open and quickly run towards the bathroom. You've failed to notice another presence in the living room, sleeping on the couch with a thin blanket covering a huge body. So throwing up everything that had been consumed the night before, you finally managed to notice you're not home.
With arm draped over the toilet seat and disgusting sight of your vomits, you look away to observe your surroundings. You recognize the bathroom easily, even though you haven't been here that often. The snippets of previous night are slowly coming back to your mind, and although it seems hazy, you can still remember almost everything.
Your drunk dancing with Namjoon, his arms holding you to prevent you from falling and him picking you up as the both of you got into the elevator. But that's not everything. The image of his skin is followed with a peck you placed on his chest causing your cheeks to burn in embarrassment.
You fucking kissed his skin!
You haven't even drank that much, but surely more than your body could handle.
How can you face him after everything he witnessed? You just fucking hope you hadn't said anything that you can't remember.
You hear shuffling on the other side of the door causing you to freeze. He's awake.
Before you can panic, you make sure you're not about to vomit again, flashing down the toilet before you're quickly rushing towards the sink to wash your mouth and face. Using the mouthwash, you make sure your breath doesn't stink of alcohol or vomits before you turn the water off. Your face is slightly swollen from the wild night, hair strands going every possible direction as you try to make it as decent as possible. Finding any courage left inside of you, you slowly come out of the bathroom to be met with Namjoon folding the black fluffy blanket.
He's wearing sweatpants and oversized T-shirt with some pattern on in, surely feeling much more comfortable than you. You're still wearing those awful tight jeans that only pushes your lower stomach and exposed body-suit.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asks once he hears your footsteps, looking over his shoulder as he places the blanket on the edge of his couch.
Embarrassed that he has probably heard you throwing up, you silently nod. "Yeah, sorry about that." you awkwardly motion towards the bathroom door as he lightly chuckles.
"It's alright," he waves, tidying small pillows to make sure his couch looks decent again. "But seriously though. Are you alright?"
"Y-yeah, I just had to, you know... get it out." you awkwardly tell him, hugging your exposed forearms.
