Choose Your Own BTS Adventure

PATH 4: NAMJOON - PART 6

6 Weeks Later...

If you thought that broken condom would have slowed down or even halted the sex between you and Namjoon, then ooh, honey, you do not know Namjoon. It would take a whole hell of a lot more than that to break this man's hwighting! sexual spirit. The lights remained permanently dimmed between the two of you almost every night since.

Neither of you were dating. It was just sex. He knew it. You knew it. No one else even knew that you two fooled around. When others were present, you and Namjoon played it cool, naturally playing the roles of two bosom buddies, usually keeping a respectable distance between each other, even if neither of your eyes could ever really keep themselves off the other for very long. Still, no one noticed, or if they did, they didn't find it worthy enough to even mention.

That's not to say that your new life in Korea was perfect by any means. In fact, aside from getting dicked down good and enjoying your secret sexy time with Namjoon, everything else was far from rosy.

The work was hard. Long hours, leaving you physically drained most days, usually came with a complimentary headache courtesy of the smell of all the chemicals in the cleaning supplies. But the biggest headache of all?

Minji.

Like now, for instance. You didn't feel good. You woke up tired and nauseous, dizzy even. It felt to you as if the world were spinning faster than you were able to keep up. All you wanted to do was curl up in bed and be dead to the world. But you couldn't.

Minji took one look at you, eyeing you up and down like great, spongy mushrooms sprouted out of your forehead, and said, "You look like shit."

You didn't even have the energy to argue. You knew if you even tried, words would not be the only thing spewing out of you like a faucet turned on. You held your tongue and tried to hold your breath as the smell of Minji's overly sweet perfume crawled up your nostrils, swirled around your brain and told you to 'puke, bitch.'

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked. You hoped that she would get wrinkles from the way she scrunched up her face at you. "You've been standing there for like five minutes. Get to work. The guys need their breakfast. Chop chop!" She clapped her hands together twice loudly and, with the way your head throbbed at the temples, it felt like she had spanked your brain.

"Minji..." you began, only to have to stop after the second syllable. Even her name tasted like vomit.

"Yeah?" Her voice sucked too.

You shook your head and shuffled slowly out to the kitchen to get started on the eggs. When you bent over low to grab a frying pan, you felt your stomach turn over and had to hold onto it and fling your arm across your mouth to keep from being sick.

"Fucking gross," she snarked from behind you before being of literally no use to you and disappearing into one of the three bathrooms in the apartment. When the sound of the water came whooshing out of the showerhead, you hoped she would drown.

You set the frying pan on the stove and took a deep breath, rubbing your sour tummy as you tried to keep it together at least long enough to get these boys fed. If you could get at least that done, maybe you could call Sejin later and let him know you weren't well enough to clean today. Maybe, if God did exist, he'd even make Minji make up for your missed work. That would be worth getting sick over.

"Hey, hey!"

You turned around at the sound of the smooth, cheerful voice. It was Namjoon, and even in the dim morning lighting, sweat crusted to his skin from the warm embrace in which he held you in his sleep, you envied him for the way it looked like his tan skin was dusted with flecks of gold. His hair was a mess, the poor baby, but it didn't matter. The neat smile on his face more than made up for any untidy fuzz on top of his crown.