b l u r r y - yugkook

셋.

jungkook.

He woke up, head pounding, eyes still closed, before turning over and getting blasted with a ray of sun right in his face, causing him to open his eyes, and he quickly turned over to see that he wasn't in his bed after all. He looked at the wall in front of him, trying to figure out where he was, before turning over once more, making sure to avoid the laser beam of sun coming in through the window. He looked around again, eyes landing on a lump in the blankets next to him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sliding out from under the blankets, before realizing that he was utterly and completely naked. No boxers, no shirt, nothing. He spotted his boxers on the floor on the other side of the bed, and made his way over to them. He looked at the person's face that was on the bed besides him, and then it hit him. He remembered all of it. The party. The drinking. Truth or Dare. Dragging Yugyeom home. All of it. He slid down onto the floor after rapidly shoving the boxers on, and closed his eyes to think.

This was a mistake. He really shouldn't have done that. Not the remembering part, that was fine, but the thinking part. Thinking was a big problem for Jungkook, more of a problem than it was for most people. For Jungkook, when he thought too much, many things could happen. And he thought too much very often. Sometimes this resulted in a full blown panic attack, and other times, just some slight shakiness and worry, depending on the issue. And this time, the issue was pretty big. He had a one night stand with someone he had just met, and now he was sitting on the floor of this person's dorm room, confused, sore, and slightly sticky all over from the events that occurred last night.

He needed to calm down and handle the situation rationally, he knew that, but he needed Jimin to calm him down, and Jimin wasn't there at the moment. Jungkook heavily considered calling the older, but then realised that that would entail a lot of explaining, and he was definitely not up for that right now. There were so many 'what ifs' floating through his thoughts. What if Yugyeom remembers? What if it was Yugyeom's first time? What if he hurt the taller? What if someone found out? What if he had a panic attack, right here, right now? What if...

All these thoughts really didn't help the situation at hand. He could feel his anxiety rising in his mind. No no no. Not here. Not now. He knew what he needed to do. Walk to the kitchen. Get a glass from the cabinet. Turn on the tap. Quietly. Don't wake Yugyeom up. Fill the cup. Take a sip. Count to three. Repeat as necessary.

He was finally calmer than before. He stepped back into the bedroom, breathing calmer, and put on his clothes that were strewn about the dorm. Shirt in one corner, pants in the other. After he was fully dressed, he grabbed his jacket, as it was cold outside these days, and opened the door. He turned around to close the door behind him, but then realized that he should probably leave an aspirin and a glass of water next to the bed or something, because considering how wasted Yugyeom was last night, the taller was going to wake up with a killer hangover, and it was the least Jungkook could do to help him out.

Jungkook walked into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, pulled out an aspirin, and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He laid the two items on the bedside table, and quickly scrawled a note on a piece of paper he found.

'Take this, it'll help your headache' it read.

Finally, he walked out the door for real this time, locking and closing the door behind him, making sure everything was all set.

He walked to the end of the long hallway to the elevator, and went down a floor to room 140, his room, before taking a quick shower, covering up the various marks covering his neck and chest, getting dressed in his most comfortable clothing (jeans and a white short sleeve shirt, obviously), and looked at the clock. Oh. shit. He was going to be late. He had classes that morning but thankfully he hadn't quite missed them yet. It was 8:30 and his classed started at 8:40, so he had very little time to slip on his Timberlands, grab an untoasted bagel off the counter, swing his backpack on, and run out the door. After eight minutes of sprinting through the campus, he made it to his first class with one minute to spare, and sunk down into his seat, body aching from the previous night and the running he had just endured, and wondered what this day would have in store for him.