something in the water ∙ jjk ✓

4 ↝ belonging to me, to you, to us

The heat that had plagued the afternoon eventually simmered down to a comfortable warmth. The kind that does not arise sweat from pores, and allows freedom in the area of wearing thin shirts and denim shorts without the concern of an unwelcome, chilly breeze. With the dwindle of the scorching temperature, the daylight had gradually smudged into an inky purple evening until the clear navy—speckled by silver starlight—was all the sky knew.

But the eight minds that dwelled beneath it? Not so much. A few rounds of beer pong that mostly replaced the beer with straight vodka and gin could do that to even the strongest of drinkers.

So, with livers processing excessive volumes of alcohol, and eyes glazed by a drunken shine, the lot of you had swam, made banter, and played old camping games that traversed deep into the night. Yoongi and Namjoon had literally laid to rest an entire tree, and ended up hauling at least a month's worth of firewood into the camp. Yoongi had also managed to hide the strips of cargo pants underneath the logs in the fire pit; unbeknownst to Taehyung, who was miserably losing a game of beer pong to Jeongguk at the time. Hoseok, Jimin and yourself had managed to play four mean games of Presidents and Assholes; a means of waiting for the dismal match between Jeongguk and Taehyung to come to its ceasefire so the three of you could finally have a turn on the table.

At dinnertime, Seokjin, in a pink apron to match his hideous pink crocs, had called out from his position at the portable stove while clicking a pair of tongs like a one-armed crab. "Who wants a sausage in a bun?"

"Yoongi will have your sausage between his buns," Taehyung had proceeded with an evil grin, which was quite literally slapped off his face by the flat of Yoongi's palm the second the words were out. An unceremonious wrestling match was then fomented in the soil. Neither of them won; they were too drunk to land any proper hits.

Truly, the night had proceeded like any of the other camping adventures. Well, beyond the fact that frequenting frat parties had strengthened you all to consume more booze than last time, which had consisted of two six-packs of beer shared amongst the group. And you had still managed to throw up the next morning.

The only notable difference was Jeongguk's presence.

Since the moment you had unintentionally dragged him into the lake, you had been catching him staring whenever your eyes dared to drift in his general direction. Every time, a rush of heat would join the moderate warmth that had already settled in your bloodstream; a concomitant of each sip that you would take from your drink. Whether you were helping Seokjin dole out food to the rest of the tipsy campers, or if you were being dragged into the water for another swim by Taehyung, Jeongguk was always close by with his softened eyes resting upon you.

They would innocently flick away once you would notice. But not without sending you a gentle smile, first.

Stop, you had told yourself when Jeongguk had lifted you up in drunken celebration, hooting at the top of his lungs after you had won a round of beer pong against Seokjin and Namjoon. Don't overthink it. You're just friends.

And although the hot afternoon had calmed considerably, it must have remained stored within the tent that you now share with Taehyung.

Midnight has passed, and everyone has retreated to their own sleeping quarters. Within your own oven-like abode, you are sprawled atop the lumpy mattress, the blanket kicked off, sweating like nobody's business. It is the kind of gruesome slickness that feels like a film of slime coats every available surface of your body, creating a disgustingly greasy effect with each slight movement that you make. As if your joints are over-oiled hinges and butter has been smeared across your skin.

You lay there in drunken deliberation, deciding whether you have the energy to crawl out of the tent and slip into the cool waters of the lake. But your decision is unequivocally made when Taehyung—snoring like an engine—rolls onto his stomach and effectively spreads his limbs like a starfish, leaving you to bunch up against the other side of the mattress with a resonating groan.