A Taste of Sugar : 김남준 ✔️

•036

Man where did my daily updates go? I've had so much on the past week forreal, with work and then meeting my friend and then moving house,,, we have no wifi yet and I'm out of data so I'm currently using the last bit of data from a sim as a hotspot it's just LONG I miss tv

I miss my Jeremy Kyle reruns weehhh

Fuck me writing the first part made me really sad ChulMin forever i love JIMIN

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A somehow terse groan fell from your lips as you rolled over, earning a soft noise of complaint from beside you. Squinting through the sandpaper that was your eyelids, the blinds were open in just the right place for the sun to burn a hole in your face. You whined, and turned your head into the pillow.

"Y/N, shh..." Taehyung's voice was raspy, tired. You felt his arm drop over you. Feeling the cosiness (and remainder of the alcohol in your system) sucking away at your consciousness, you sighed, grappling under the sheets for your phone to check the time. The redhead grumbled wordlessly as your fingers dug under his stomach, locating your phone underneath him. Somehow during the night- the early morning since the two of you had gotten back, at least- it had ended up there. "Y/N..."

One of his eyes opened slightly to peer at you in annoyance as you squinted at your phone. Although he'd only gone out with you to keep an eye on you, he'd wound up drinking quite a lot himself- mostly thanks to some guilt tripping on your part. Therefore, both of you had quite the nasty hangover.

As it was, though, you didn't really feel like sleeping anymore, so slid out of the bed, ignoring your friend's whine- you'd left the covers half off him. Stretching fatigue from your muscles, your stomach wormed around in angry knots, in protest of the poison you'd funnelled into your body the night before. It was what you deserved, really, for drinking so much.

After showering and dressing in Taehyung's comfiest (and favourite) sweatpants- your clothes were in Jimin's room- you sat in the kitchen, a cup-soup in front of you along with some ibuprofen. You'd prepared them in an attempt to be a proper adult, for a change, but the smell of the soup had sent a strong wave of nausea through you and as such you had yet to try and actually consume any.

"You look like shit." The voice made you jump, and you looked up from your mug. Jimin closed the front door behind him. He was in shorts and a spandex running shirt. He'd been for a morning jog, judging by the sweat on his brow. It was a hobby he tended to participate more actively in when he had things on his mind, or stress to work off. You swallowed.

He passed you at the kitchen island to go to the fridge, grabbing the carton of milk and pouring a glass. You watched him make himself some toast in silence, neither of you making eye contact or broaching conversation. You figured he was still pissed and that that comment before was just him being catty- until he sat opposite you at the bar. "Aren't you-"

"Ignoring you? No, not anymore." He took a bite of toast, and you withheld your feelings of relief, knowing he wasn't finished. The blonde's expression was pensive, and yours became wary. "I never was good at that, with you. I'm still mad, though."

A not so subtle flare of annoyance bloomed in your chest. You frowned, reminded of the texts and missed calls demanding your attention that you had woken to from Namjoon. He was still pissed, too, even more so because you weren't answering your phone. "But I don't get why-"

"Because I love you, Chul, that's why." The exasperation in Jimin's tone was obvious. "You are my most important, cherished friend- no, family- and you're running around getting in the line of fire for a pimp, for god's sake!" His tone rose in volume, but he drew in a breath, and calmed. "Hyung has bodyguards. Protecting him is their responsibility. I almost had a heart attack when I heard- I thought you'd been shot."

You pursed your lips, frowning at the counter. You knew he'd been worried, of course he would, but to get angry over it still seemed a little unreasonable. It had been fine, after all. "But I wasn't..."

"I-... I know. I know you weren't snd I know it was fine but what if it isn't next time? There will always be threats on RM's life, Chul, and I need to know you're not going to throw yourself in front of all of them." His frown was exhausted, betraying all the distress and anxiety of the night prior. "What if you do get shot? Or stabbed, or anything else? What then? What-" your eyes bugged as his voice cracked, "What do I do, then? What can I do- what am I supposed to do without you?"

You opened your mouth to speak as he furiously blinked away the tears that had welled up in his eyes, only to close it again. Your throat felt thick. Sometimes you forgot- that you were this important in his life. Of course it went both ways, but it had become so natural that a reminder such as this, of just how strongly you needed one another, was a shock. Standing up, you moved around the island to hug him. He smelled faintly of sweat and outside. He held onto you tightly, a tiny whimper falling from his lips into your shirt. You swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." The blonde mumbled, "I shouldn't have gotten so angry... but..."

"It's okay." You pulled in a deep breath. "It was reckless."

"It was." He scolded, but when you leaned back he was giving a half smile- which was marred somewhat by the pinkness of his eyes. You wiped under them gently, and he grinned, which you returned- until a wave of nausea crashed over you and reminded you that you were, in fact, very hungover. He read the expression on your face easily, and grew apprehensive. "What is it?"

"Nothing, just...-" you stared at him, trying to remain calm but becoming alarmed in time with the thrumming of your heartbeat. A sudden cold washed over you. "If I move I might throw up."

"Shit. Don't move. If you throw up on me I swear to god..." he edged out from between you and the chair, then backed away with speed, sprinting around the apartment, "Can you make it to the bathroom? Breathe, try keep it down!" You gulped down air like you had just been released from suffocation, gripped the counter, and the nausea slowly passed as Jimin finally found something appropriate for you to vomit into- a trashcan. He sat with you as you cradled the bin in your arms, watching as you became gradually less green. "Jesus, how much did you drink?"

You lowered your head gingerly to the counter, the cold surface good against your skin. "A lot..." you sighed, "But you were mad at me, and so was N- RM, and I was pissed at everyone, and then with Tae it just..."

He snorted. "That guy has such low alcohol tolerance. I hope you didn't encourage him too much."

A wry smile crossed your features. "Nah. He was good, really. Even took my phone off me so I wouldn't smash it..." Jimin rose his eyebrows, so you elaborated, "RM kept calling me and I got mad..."

"Ah... well." The somehow guilty expression on his face made you suspicious. "He called me, too. I think he's less angry now and more worried..."

You exhaled heavily. "Let him be worried a bit longer." You were still pretty annoyed that he'd yelled at you in front of all those people. You understood a little more now, thanks to Jimin, why he'd been so upset- but you still couldn't help but feel that to some extent it was his male pride that had suffered the most. And that he owed you a thanks, at least. You didn't feel like talking to him. The petty side of you was telling you to let him suffer for a little while. "I don't want to speak to him right now."

"You'll have to talk to him eventually..." he said softly, then sighed when you gave a stubborn scowl and shrugged your shoulders as if to demonstrate your nonchalance. You stood slowly, trying not to upset your stomach again, and gave him your best puppy eyes.

"Movies?" He smirked a little in amusement at the blatant subject change, but nodded.

"Disney?" He knew you too well. You grinned.

"Always."