VHope Fluffshots

Drunk

I don't know why I let Taehyung convince me to go to parties with him. I don't even drink, but he does. He drinks and I hate it. He turns into someone completely different, but I'm so in love with him that I just don't care anymore. If it lets me continue to be his best friend, then I'll go watch him feel up random strangers at house parties.

I hate myself for agreeing with him because every time he drinks, he finds someone to sleep with, and it's never me. It will never be me and I know it because Taehyung is straight. He always sleeps with a girl, or two girls, or three girls at most. He loves them so much, but all I love is him.

Of course he doesn't know my sexual preferences. He's a homophobe; gay people make him uncomfortable, and when Namjoon and Jin told us they were dating, Taehyung avoided them for months. I'm Taehyung's best friend; we know each other inside and out - well, Taehyung thinks  he knows me inside and out. If I told him the truth about me, I'd lose him. I don't want to lose him.

So now I'm sitting on the couch at Byun Baekhyun's house party with a bottle of water in my hand, observing the crowd of sweaty strangers grinding on each other as deafening trap music plays from the surround-sound stereo. Taehyung is surrounded by a bunch of drunk people, doing Jell-O shots and laughing way too loudly to be sober. I hate the atmosphere - I hate seeing Taehyung like this. But I'll endure it just for him.

My heart hurts as he reaches over to a girl and starts a makeout session with her, and I look away before tears roll down my cheeks. I hate being Taehyung's closeted-gay-best-friend-who-is-deeply-in-love-with-him, but I can't help it. I can't help but fall for my best homophobic friend.

"Hyung, you good?" Taehyung slurs as he approaches me, eyes half-lidded and feet unbalanced. I nod and wipe my tears. "Yeah, Tae. Go have some more fun," I croak out. My tears still won't stop falling. He just shakes his head and pulls me up, stumbling to the door and dragging me with him. "Something's wrong. Let's go home."

When we're right outside his house, he stops and turns to me. "You're a good hyung. I should tell  you that more." He's so close, close enough that if I lean to him, I'll kiss him. "You should get insi-"

His lips are warm and soft against my own, fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece. They're sweet like Jell-O, with the alcoholic twist to them; vodka. I want to hold him, to kiss him forever, but I know that this shouldn't be happening and that we won't be the same if he remembers this.

I push him away, new tears dripping down my cheeks. "G-go home, Taehyung," I choke out, my tears falling faster than I can get the words out. He just stares at me. "Why are you crying?" I shake my head and push him to his house. "Go!"

And he does. He does.

The next week of school was spent praying that Taehyung didn't remember, hoping that I was still his closeted-gay-best-friend-who-is-deeply-in-love-with-him. But, unfortunately, he did remember.

"Hyung, I'm sorry I kissed you," he whispered on Thursday afternoon as we stood at my locker. My heart slowly started dropping, but I shook it off. "Don't be. You were drunk and didn't have control over yourself." My hand was clenched tight to my locker, knuckles white.

Taehyung nodded and thought for a minute. "Did you like it?"

Fuck.  I shook my head and closed my eyes. "Hyung, please tell me the truth."

Out of nowhere, I angrily slammed my locker door and turned to him. "Why!? You don't like gay people anyways, why would it matter!? If I wasn't gay, we'd stay friends! If I was gay, you'd walk away from me right now! I don't want to lose my best friend."