「Hoseok is determined to escape his fate. Namjoon just wants to be loved.」
Or, in which Hoseok dreams of being a dancer and standing on his own feet but is being tied down by a marriage contract to a man he hates.
Or so he thought.
Featuring woke yo...
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"So..."
"So?"
Jungkook rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his palm over the kitchen counter. He raised an eyebrow at Namjoon. The other mimicked him, being the strong headed child he was.
"Don't make as if you don't understand, Joonie," Taehyung appeared from behind them in all of his sparkly glory, sporting tight dark clothes and a glitter chocker (Namjoon ignored the hickey pocking from underneath the lacy fabric of his shirt), and headed to the refrigerator, removing an icy bottle of vodka and a carton of banana milk.
He took out three glasses and winked at Jungkook who only beamed at his arrival, or was it at the banana milk? (Honest to god, Jungkook loved Taehyung almost as much as he loved banana milk.) He settled across from the pair and poured a copious amount of vodka in each.
"He's speaking of Hoseok, dummy," he continued when Namjoon stayed silent.
"What about him?" Namjoon cocked his head to the side and smiled, playing dumb.
Namjoon smelled strongly of soju and beer and that was most probably Jungkook's fault- not that he minded of course. He did plan on getting wasted.
Taehyung shook his head and let the banana milk spill into his and Jungkook's glass. Namjoon liked his pure, or prepared by a trained bartenders who actually know what they do. Taehyung's combinations were always bizarre.
The youngest laughed. "Aish this hyung. Sometimes I think I'm older than you, you know- Taehyung don't use all the milk, you know I can't sleep if I don't drink some at night."
Tae gives him a cheeky smile and throws the carton into the trash can. He narrowly missed and the crumpled carton ended up on top of a pile of used lipsticked-stained red cups. "Too late."
The three of them seized their glasses, clinked and then gulped promptly the content down. Namjoon was the first to put his empty glass down.
"There's nothing to tell," he settled on saying, looking around with a furrow of the eyebrows. Was it him or was the room spinning on its axis? Weird.
"What do you mean there's nothing to tell? You called me at four in the fucking morning, drunk off your ass, and told me you fell for the human embodiment of the fucking sun and hung up on me. And that was a week ago."
Jungkook snorted, "I better get the context to that story."
"Okay fine," Namjoon hid his face and whined loudly in embarrassment, "That night we went to a dinner nearby and talked a lot- well I think we did, to be honest we were shit drunk and everything is just mushy in my brain- and we settled on being friends. I woke up hungover and so did Hoseok and we talked some more and yeah," he nodded frantically, pouring himself some more vodka and drinking everything at once. "We are okay. I think. At the very least he doesn't hate me anymore."
