Milkshake Boy | pjm

sixteen

I stand in the shower under the stream, the water rinsing the body wash from my skin, slowly moving it down the drain. I rub the water from my eyes before shutting off the water, pulling back the shower curtain to grab a towel. My eyes widen at the lack of towel on the rack, my jaw dropping awkwardly.

"Shit," I mumble as I step out of the shower, walking to the bathroom door slowly. I peek out the door to see Jimin sitting on his bed, his hands wrapped around a game controller. "Jimin," I say, hoping I catch his attention.

Jimin turns to me and his cheeks go red, seeing the bare skin of my shoulders all the way to where my hands are covering my nipples, the rest of my body hidden behind the door.

"Taishi," he says, his eyes wide in shock. "You don't have clothes on."

I blush, my eyes averting their gaze toward the floor, avoiding his gaze. "There's no towel in here."

"I could have sworn-" he says, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows scrunching. He stands up and grabs me a towel before stepping away from the bathroom door. "Feel free to go through my closet and wear whatever fits you, I have to go yell at my brother now."

-----

Jimin looks at me with a smile when I walk into the living room, his eyebrow raising at the sight of me wearing his clothes. I spin a little, showing off the outfit I made out of a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a black shirt that I tied into crop top using one of my hair elastics. The makeshift crop top is tied to sit just below where most of my bruises are placed, other ones I can say are hickeys and no one will ask otherwise. My hair is thrown into a high ponytail and my face is completely clear of any traces of makeup.

"You sure you don't want to cover that?" Jimin mumbles, gesturing to the bruise surrounding my eye. I nod awkwardly and he grabs my hand, leading me into his brother's room. "Ask him for concealer, I refuse to go in there."

I roll my eyes and push Jimin aside, knocking on the door loudly.

The door whips open quickly, the angry expression on Jihyun's face softening when he sees me. "Taishi," he says with a smile. "Sick of a tiny dick, I see."

"I need concealer," I say, cutting straight to the point.

He stares at me for a moment before moving to the side, his hand stretched outward to direct me inside his room. "Come in," he says, allowing me to walk past him before closing the door.

My eyes roam the dark interior of his room, much different from the neutral colour scheme of Jimin's room. I turn to face him, his eyes glued to my body.

"You gonna get me the concealer," I say, snapping his eyes to mine. "Or just stare at me all day?'

He nods quickly before running into his bathroom, returning quickly with a tube of concealer. I smile as I take it and push past him to use the mirror in his bathroom. I begin to apply it around my eye and blend it with my finger.

"So you and my brother," he begins, his body leaning against the frame to the bathroom.

"Uh-huh," I hum as I focus on applying the concealer, his eyes focused on my movements.

"You don't seem like you're dating."

"And why is that?"

"Well, clearly he doesn't like me around you, but he sent you into my room for concealer instead of lending you his own," he says casually.

I pull away from the mirror and scrunch my eyebrows before turning to face him. I take another step closer to him. "Sounds like you just don't trust yourself around me, Jihyun."

He swallows hard, clearing his throat. His eyes travel up and down my body and I laugh, shoving the concealer into his chest.

"Do me a favour," I scoff as I begin to walk toward the door. "Don't come bowling with us."

And with those final words, I leave the room, walking back to Jimin who is still standing in the hallway. I frown at him and push him slightly.

"You had concealer this whole time," I say angrily, causing him to smirk. "Why the fuck did you make me go in there with him?"

"I just wanted to see what would happen," he says as he raises his hands in surrender. "There were two things he could have done, and each of them depended on how much he likes you."

I raise my eyebrow.

"He could have told you he had no concealer and told you to leave, this would mean that he doesn't like you at all," he states as we begin to walk back to his room. "And if he let you in and gave you concealer, which he did, that would mean that he actually does like you."

"Like me in which context?"

"The context doesn't matter," he says quickly, defending his brother. "Let's just go bowling."