Seven of Swords

"Good morning." Namjoon sang at my sleepy mom, sounding all cheery and glad to see her.

"Morning," I said too, like a dark cloud. Already half-drunk at 8 AM.

"You two woke up early." Dad's observation had me frowning harder. Sipping to keep the mouth busy.

"Honey, can you turn up the heater? It's a bit chilly."

Jung's T-shirt hung loosely around her tiny frame. The messy long brown hair only made her face look smaller and her eyes bigger.

Her husband turned with a kind face towards her, saying:

"That's because you just hopped out of bed. If I turn it up, you'll tell me to turn it back down the second you will have finished your coffee."

Mom grinned at him like a child. Mainly because she knew that he was right. And then spotted me drinking in the corner of her vision.

"Jungkook, what are you having?"

"…milk…" I mumbled.

She came closer and the small eyebrows arched.

"That looks more like eggnog dear."

"Really? Well, I couldn't tell…" I feigned being surprised, joking, and mocking at the same time. And then took a big gulp right after in case she did take it away.

"How could you not tell? There's alcohol in it."

And just when she was reaching toward it, the intercom started ringing.

And she was gone. Jung's winter stockings were helping her slide on the floor, more so than run.

"Coffee?" Namjoon asked my father, who turned into a stone statue the second Jung's voice come through the little white device by the front door.

"Would be nice." That was his aloof reply.

And then mom came running back since the kitchen, living room, and hallway's lack of walls allowed her to go through all of them in record time, only to stop with the help of her husband's body as if he was the wall that she desperately needed.

"Jung's here. And his girlfriend too," She informed him and us in a hurry while fixing her hair and clothes. But then the size of her son's clothes and the lack of a bra had her saying:

"Honey, go change."

He looked down at his clothes and frowned.

"Why? It's eight in the morning…"

"She can't see us like this. No…I'll go change first."

"How about we all go change?" He suggested, defeated and she watched her husband and Namjoon marching toward Jung's closet and then spotted the only one left in the kitchen," Jungkook?"

"Not moving." I deadpanned.

They all most likely assumed that I might still be upset about yesterday.

But the buzz I was trying to get had nothing to do with my brother's inevitable child and more to do with the man who was making coffee and eggs for my family like the perfect undercover son-in-law.

A plate with two sandwiches made it in front of me before the most normal couple of the family made it to the door at which Jung's been knocking for at least five minutes.

"For me?"

"Yes."

I was about to tell him that I wasn't hungry, but then Namjoon had to add: "Strawberry jam and butter."

Which had me taking a bite straight away.

'Why is he the one acting all whipped when I'm the one crying and begging to…!'

"Good morning! Merry Christmas! Hello…"

'Mom's just telling them all the greetings she can think of at this point.'

I observed the four of them, holding my head up in a fist, elbow on the counter. Feeling bored.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Jeon."

They were hugging right in the hallway. And Jung was observing them for a moment too before looking up at my sour face.

"What demon got into you?"

I shrugged and then heard Namjoon asking a casual: "Coffee?" To which Jung nodded affirmatively.

There was no visible bump yet, but I couldn't stop glaring at her belly regardless. Shamelessly staring until she was sitting down in the same spot I've sat in yesterday. All I could see was the back of her head now.

After asking about what her holidays were like and completely avoiding the subject of our lovely Christmas dinner, they were talking about anything else besides the elephant in the room. Preferring to discuss about how she's made her black long hair have so much volume. Whether she had a job or any other siblings. And questions that Tammy had probably answered before, but, which mom has long forgotten the answers to. Dad actually asked if she had contact lenses or if her dark eyes that had a hint of green were natural as if he's ever cared about such details in this lifetime.

"So, we were thinking about moving in together." Jung cut to the chase like Namjoon was cutting the cheese that he wanted to add to everyone's sandwiches, besides mine.

"Naturally. Do you want to stay here, or…"

"Jun and I have been thinking about getting a new place. The one I'm living in has so many problems already and fixing those would cost a small fortune." She was chuckling politely when I plummeted down next to her.

I saw the cogs turning into my mom's brain since the young woman's just told her that she didn't see this place as a valid living place. Which both puzzled and slightly irritated her, but since she's sworn to herself to adjust to whatever came her way with a smile, she waved the unconscious frustrated expression away, adjusted the dress, and nodded to dad's words with a smile:

"Wherever you two will decide, we'll pinch in. No explanations are needed. Just point at the place and we'll get it."

"That is very kind of you and I'm very grateful, but my parents won't agree to that. They want to make sure everything is split equally. And Jung and I will work hard so we won't be a bother after getting the bare necessities..."

Mom started waving with a hand again, the other fixing her dress. A crocked smile, plastered to her face.

"A bother? Never think that for a second...ahem..." And she turned towards me, and then skipped me with her eyes, only to ask in a lower tone: "Namjoon, would you be a dear and go get me my purse?"

For some reason, he didn't seem to think before getting up to get it.

'Mom orders him around like he orders dad around which means…'

"You don't like coffee, Jungkook? What are you having?" Tammy asked, probably because of the quietness that followed Namjoon's departure.

"Eggnog."

No one said anything else until Namjoon returned with the purse.

'Y'all are the boring ones for drinking coffee during the holidays.' I mentally judged them while taking a big sip.

"Give me your number." Mom blurted out, taking out her phone from her tiny black purse, and the rest of us watched, in silent pity.

"Mom, I could've given you her number. You didn't have to ask her."

"This is between her and I, Jung. And more importantly, I want her to know that she can call me any time she wants to and if I ever do call, it won't be sudden because you've given me her number when she wasn't present. Correct?"

She directed that question to Tammy, who just lowered her head, wearing a polite smile and a pinkish blush.

'She seems sweet. And a bit submissive. I wonder if Jung held her down when he impreg…'

"Would you like some sandwiches, Tammy? Namjoon's made them." Dad pointed at him and Namjoon got up from my side at once.

"That's me. Nice to meet you. I'm Jungkook's… friend."

"Nice to meet you too."

They shook hands by avoiding me, the one who was in between the two of them, but all she seemed to see was the bruised cheek and busted lower lip.

Namjoon didn't call her on it.

She straightened herself up as soon as their hands ceased touching. Scotching closer to my brother who was at the head of the table. He put an arm around her immediately. As if to say: I know. He's scary like I've told you, isn't he?

I choked on the eggnog.

"Jungkook, are you okay?"

"Yes. Fi-ahem. Fine." I coughed until I was embarrassed. "Need some water. Be right back."

I got up a bit too fast, causing the whole world to spin. The few steps I took until the counter made me think that I should stop drinking eggnog if I wanted to be coherent until ten AM.

I heard them asking: "Did you tell your parents yet? And a "How far along are you?"

But I stopped eavesdropping when Jung ended up by my side, staring.

"What?"

"Why are you drinking first thing in the morning?"

"It's Christmas. Let me celebrate," I argued in the flattest, joyless voice.

He raised an eyebrow, but let me be.

"About yesterday…"

I turned to look at him, squinting my eyes to see him better.

"I am not upset. And you're not wrong. They've been going easy on me because of my…issues."

"But that's not…"

"My fault. Neither is it yours. If anyone carries any fault, it's them, not you."

I was hoping they couldn't hear me. But if they did, their faces didn't show it.

'Though mom's acting is almost believable today.'

"It's good that we're on the same page." He casually stated.

I faced him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, saying an honest: "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks. It's kind of scary, but it's happening."

He was staring at his girlfriend while I was staring at a family-friendly Namjoon. I agreed with a cheerful tone, although I was way bitter than the guy whose girlfriend got pregnant by mistake:

"Yeah. It's kind of scary but, it's fucking real." I agreed with a high-pitched, self-pitying, and self-mocking voice.

"It is, isn't it?"

"If you need any help. Let me know." I said that, but I was holding myself up by leaning onto his side.

"Get your babysitting skills in check."

"Sure. They've got babies in dorms, don't they?"

"Maybe not at first, but if you wait for a while…"

We both chuckled. Not wholeheartedly. Afterward, our eyes met briefly, and his eyes held sadness within. I could only hope that no emotion was peeking through mine.

"You're not going to go to the local one, are you?"

"I got some pretty good numbers now, big bro. The sky's the limit." I breathed out the words, dramatically. To which he smiled a small smile.

"Yeah. I still can't believe you pulled that one off…"

I went on entirely flat: "Me neither. It's like the one who corrected it was blind, but why would I complain?"

"It's a Christmas miracle if you ask me."

"Or maybe I'm smarter than I thought."

We both looked at each other grinning and simultaneously let out a long: "Na!"

"What about him?" He pointed his chin at the back of Namjoon's head after we both resumed staring down at the living room, where everyone was still chatting.

"I don't think he'll be far."

I mumbled, sipping some more eggnog.

"Going to the same place?"

"Probably. Maybe not. Maybe yes. Don't know for sure yet."

An eyebrow went up and I caught it with the corner of my eye.

"I get that you got good grades since the exam's picked up the slack from some of your…lesser grades. But didn't he get like perfection? For years in a row?"

I looked down and to the right, at Namjoon's head, and let out a curt:

"Yup."

"So why would he consider to go where you…"

"Don't know. Ask him."

And I escaped. Unable to come up with a good lie. I dumped it all on an oblivious, future Namjoon.

Not feeling guilty, but somewhat scared to check if Jung was looking suspiciously at us after I sat down beside Namjoon. The newfound paranoia had me sipping actual milk mixed with rum and nothing else only ten minutes later.

"You two are certain there's no way to convince you into shopping with us?"

"I promised I'd watch this movie with him today." Namjoon lied, shrugging, and I nodded as if that had been my idea all along. Head held up by sheer willpower.

"I doubt anything will be open,"

Dad said so, but he was tying his shoelaces nonetheless.

"It's the 26-th already. Malls are open and so are most stores." Mom argued, buttoning up her cream-colored coat.

"This is slavery." Jung accused jokingly, but mom didn't seem to take that lightly.

They were discussing the history of slavery on their way out. And I've heard some of the impressed reactions my parents were capable of making at Tammy's surprising supposedly accurate facts.

"Bye, bye." I waved to the closed door and let out the hiccup I'd been holding for the last minute. "I thought they'll never leave."

A sighting Namjoon was pouring me water.

"Remind me why'd you drink so much, this early too?"

"You've no right to ask."

"Fine. Let's talk about slavery too, then."

"I can't believe they've plugged in the tree again!"

"I think you mean the lights."

"Whatever."

I unplugged it after two tries, in which I clasped my fingers around the tiny green plug and was unable to pull it out. Fingers slipping right through.

"What do you have against Christmas lights?"

"They're way too slow," I complained.

"Ha?"

"Stop asking questions."

'The room's spinning.' I heard myself thinking.

"Is there anything I'm allowed to ask?"

He tapped on the cup he's placed on the table.

"Not really…" I crawled toward him, going around the table so I could lay my head on his lap.

"What are you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"What about my present?"

I hugged his leg, confidently saying:

"Next year."

"No...today."

A curt: "Haven't you had enough?" escaped.

"You were the only one who finished yesterday. Why are you complaining?"

"You humiliated me," I whispered. All the memories that I was trying to drown coming back on an eggnog winged hippogryph.

I tried to get up, but I fell right back into his lap. Head hurting from the speedy change of position. I resigned to only hiding my face.

"You seemed like you were enjoying it…so I didn't think…sorry?"

Guilt hit the back of my throat at the honest, softly spoken words.

"Don't apologize. I did… like it, a bit."

"…Jungkook, I really don't know what you're trying to say right now."

"..."

"Did you enjoy getting humiliated or not? Wait, what am I saying? There was no humiliation! What we did until last night was way worse. If anything, I was pleasuring you and only you for the first time. So, can you illuminate me what part of it was humiliating for you?"

"You making me beg," I admitted, talking into Jung's pants.

"Ah…that. Okay. I won't make you beg anymore then."

There was an upset resolve in that decision. Which is why I drunkenly shot up and clasped his head between the palms of my hands in a hurry. Regretting my decision, the second the whole forehead started hurting, and having to close my eyes to keep it at bay for a moment.

But still, pleaded: "No. Make me beg."

"How drunk are you?" He smirked, but the tone indicated annoyance.

"I'm not." One hiccup and I added a "'m fine."

"Really? Walk in a straight line. No. Screw that. Just stand straight for more than ten seconds."

"You can't…make me?" I tried arguing, tilting my head.

He burst out laughing, leaning back on his arms. Causing my hands to fall on his thighs, which I used to keep myself up.

"So, which one is it? To be honest, it's a shame, cause I did like hearing you beg." He looked far into the distance. And I lightly tapped the side of his right leg.

"That's not the problem…"

"Then what's the problem? May I inform you that I can't read your mind." He poked a finger at my forehead and then cupped the back of my head as if he was sure that I'll fall anytime now.

"I don't know…I just felt like…like…you were in control of everything…."

I confessed and let myself slide down to his lap. Resuming the previous position.

"I've always been in control of everything."

He reminded me, rolling his eyes. I frowned.

"What you're saying is that you don't like that all of a sudden?"

"You pushed me down and…"

"I always push you down." He argued quietly.

"But this time was different!"

"How was it any different?!"

"Cause it felt like…like…"

"Like?"

"Aaaa! Don't make me say it." I was rolling right and left and the hand under my head made all the more sense now.

I was laid on the carpet carefully, but I kept thrashing around like a lunatic as soon as my head made contact with the carpet.

"Make you say what? Stop…it…Jungkook! You'll start feeling sick."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him in one swift move.

"This." I pointed out.

"What? What did I do?" He retracted his hand immediately.

"I don't know! You're so…ah!"

He pondered a little and then asked, eyebrows shooting up:

"You don't like being manhandled?"

"Yes! That's the word."

"But you can't even suck me off properly."

The honesty present in his voice had me blushing in a matter of seconds.

While he was staring at me, wide-eyed. I averted my eyes.

He went on: "And you can barely move when I touch you, what do you…"

"That's because you're doing it too fast!" I faced him; a bit annoyed as well.

"Then what about yesterday? I was doing it very slowly and yet you didn't even thrust back into me. Not once."

"It hurt too much at first and then too good to move, after that…mm…"

He let himself lean back on one hand. The rest of the fingers grabbing the wrist again, mainly to keep me still and nothing else.

"But you liked it."

I nodded and fixated on the ceiling.

To which he just blinked as if he was batting away an upcoming migraine.

"But it was humiliating as well? But licking my ass wasn't that much of a trigger somehow?!" The reproach was loud and clear.

I almost snapped my neck to turn and glare at him, saying: "Shh! Don't say that out loud."

"There's only me here, Jungkook! No one else can hear this mess of a conversation!"

"Stop yelling at me!"

I clawed at his hand but he didn't let go so I just made a whinnying sound that got his jaw doing a back-and-forth movement.

A few embarrassing confessions only to hear the words: "I don't think I like it when you're drunk. Have some water. We're going out."

"But I don't want to be sober…"

"Well, you can't be drunk and smoke or you'll just…I don't know. What happens to you then?"

"I am happy?"

"Yeah. Bullshit. You're not smoking. Normal cigarette or otherwise."

He got up and went into my room without another word.

"Wait. I don't think you understand..."

I crawled until I was in the hallway, belly, and face down. Near the bedroom door with both legs stretched out on the carpet.

"What did you say?!"

"Can you hear me?!"

The sound of the closet getting opened had me punching the floor lightly.

"I was not finished talking about…that."

After forever, I heard him sighing. He squatted right in front of me. Clothes got thrown on my behind.

"I'm not going…" I told him.

"What is it that you want exactly?"

"I don't know..."

Namjoon cracked his knuckles which made me believe that my last answer had only made him angrier.

"Do you want to fuck me? Well, I am sorry. But I am not a bottom. What else? Want to control my orgasm? It takes me at least one hour to orgasm, and that's on a good day. So, what's the point? Want me to fuck you in a more dignified position? Or what? What do you want from me?!"

I crawled the small distance between us and touched the skin between his thighs to warm myself up, looking up, the rest of my body still facing down. Hating that I had to explain it while he looked down at me from his squatting position, bewildered when I confessed once more:

"I am the girl."

"What?"

"No. I am your girl."

"You're not a girl, Jungkook." He breathed out with a sigh.

"But I feel like one."

"And you don't like that?"

"I don't think I do…" I was slurring my words, but he was getting every single one. Which seemed like it wasn't going very well for me since he looked more irritated by the second.

"And what am I supposed to do with this feeling that you have, which makes absolutely no sense, because by the way, look between your legs Jungkook! And tell me: do you see a vagina?!"

"…stop yelling at me!"

"I am not yelling at you! I am telling you that it makes no sense!" He said yelling, "You're drunk, so get up, change your clothes. And get some fresh air."

His words weren't attacking me, but his hands were.

Pulling on my collar to turn me on my back, dragging me towards the carpet, like I weighed nothing. And then pulling on my clothes, taking them off two at a time.

"You're doing it again…" I murmured with a cry in my voice. One that had his hands hovering above my naked legs. "You man….danndle…mandle…whatever. You're doing it to me again!"

I was hugging myself, hiding my nipples like a woman would, and resisting the urge to cry.

I looked away when I couldn't bear the face that was almost expressionless to me. As if to say:

'But this is how our relationship has been from the start…' Is the thought that appeared in my mind's eye. Completely aware that it didn't change the fact that it was bothering me today.

"Then you do it." He said softly.

"I don't want to go out. You want to go out. You go out."

Tears were rolling down my cheeks, and he was just looking down at me, eyes opened wide. On his knees, right between my spread, naked legs. He leaned in to caress the right cheek.

"I am sorry. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"That's the problem…my mind's blank Namjoon." I hugged myself tighter, unable to close my legs because of his body. Then the front of his thigh touched my genitals without him realizing it and it sent tingles all over my body. "I can't think of anything. I think…I …might…I want to stop being turned on by you…doing me."

His grin showed all of his white clenched teeth.

"You want to stop being gay?"

"No…?" I asked him and myself. Eyes shifting from the white wall behind him and his mad expression at the brand-new information he just presented; one that I couldn't quite process.

"That's what it fucking sounds like to me, Jungkook."

I thought I heard some spite in there and I suddenly got scared.

"I think I'm drunk…" I smiled sheepishly at him.

"Oh. NOW you admit that you're drunk?"

A big hand grabbed my chin to squish the lips together. The man seemed like he was about to beat me up, despite leaning down as if he was about to kiss me. He inhaled and exhaled. Trying to keep the anger inside. And I wrapped my arms and legs around him like a baby. This action made him just as confused as I was at it occurring.

"There are only two options Jungkook." He suddenly, firmly stated.

"Huh?"

"You either try fucking a girl to sort out whatever you're conflicted about. And let me know if you're straight, bi, or gay even though, to me, you're as fucking gay as they come in my opinion. Or, and this is the one you're going to pick because you're an anxious little boy…"

"Don't call me little." I pleaded, weakly.

"OR! You take control. Manhandle me as much as you want today." He outstretched his hands on either side of his body and then leaned back down, "Happy new year's love. Two gifts in a row." He patted my cheek with a grin that didn't travel to the unblinking eyes.

"But…how do I do that?" I whispered.

"Rip my clothes off. Push me down. I don't know or care! Whatever you want besides fucking me. I am all yours. You have like...two hours tops until your parents return. The key's in the door. No one's coming in without our permission."

"But…"

Lucius fury was emanating from his skin, but I was seeing double. And I couldn't help but wish he'd be the one touching me instead. Feeling the long T-shirt, he was wearing grazing my naked stomach and the warmth of his legs against mine.

I didn't want to move at all. In fact, I wished he'd kiss me and then cuddle me to sleep.

'Ah…I don't have a dominant bone in my body. And he doesn't have one submissive cell in his. So, why did I even bring this up? Cause I forgot.'

"How long are you going to make me wait? Come on."

I was under him, half-naked, feeling cold and dizzy. He was above me, veins popping out, body blocking the view to the ceiling.

What he had just said and our positions didn't match at all.

I pushed myself up and kissed him.

He didn't lean down which made it uncomfortable.

I had to grab his neck and pull him lower.

But I didn't. I choose to prop myself up on the elbows instead.

"Namjoon…" I breathed out his name and planted a kiss on his cheek, whispering, pleading: "punish me."

He was grinning, eyes closed due to fiery rage bubbling up.

"…I will fucking kill you."

I chuckled since he didn't sound serious, but when he pulled my head up by the hair to expose the neck, and his breath on my skin tickled, I was bracing for the punishment when I heard him saying:

"Not today."

I swallowed hard. My throat felt completely dry after.

A chill that started at my toes and ended at the back of my neck overruled everything else.

"Why not?" I inquired through short hiccups.

"Not enough time for what I want to do."

"Two hours isn't enough?"

"Not at all."

He released every strand of hair and patted my head before sliding the pajama blouse that he had previously taken off, on. Yet not bothering with the pants.

"Sorry?" I heard myself saying when he leaned back.

"Don't worry about it."

He shrugged and got up.

"You're mad, aren't you?"

"Jungkook, you're drunk and clearly confused about your sexuality. But there's nothing for me to get mad at. You'll figure it out with a little bit of experimentation. Just don't run off if you think that screwing is your hidden talent all of a sudden."

"I won't. But you're mad, aren't you?"

"Hmm. Let's see…you've been spatting out feelings you may or may not have, that contradict each other for like an hour now. Then you started crying and then stopped a second later like a crazy person. Rolled around like a child. Accused me of manhandling you and then asked me to do just that. Well, it's safe to say that we've had a very productive Christmas morning. Didn't we?"

He smiled with irony. I smiled back, with a hint of shame.

"You might not even remember most of it when you'll sober up. But there's one thing that I am sure of."

"…and wwhat's tthat?" I stuttered.

"You're not allowed to drink anymore." He deadpanned.

"Pf. You can't tell me what to do." I crossed my arms, feeling my face burning up. He copied me.

"No. I can't. But I can tie you up and hide your liquor." Whatever he saw on my face made him add: "But before that…I'll ask you, respectfully and with hope in my heart, that you don't drink eggnog, specifically, for a long, long time."

"Just punish me already." I kicked my bare legs like a child.

"Mm…Nah."

He took a few steps toward the kitchen, and I followed him on my knees.

"Come on. I know you want to."

"No fun if you're expecting it though."

"I'm hungry."

He walked by my naked ass, as I faced down. And picked up all the glasses from the table. Hid all the bottles in the upper cupboards. And something told me that was ridiculous considering the fact that I could see where he was putting them. But as soon as I got up and almost fell after two steps, it dawned on me that he was simply removing accessibility.

"Do we have…mm…what they're called…chocolate filling something?" I asked, leaning on the counter.

"Pastry?"

"I think so. It's like this big. Light brown?"

"Croissant?"

"Yeah. That!"

"I don't think so."

"Can you look?"

"How about some actual food?"

"Mm…thanks, but no thanks."

After five minutes of watching him search, I slid to the floor. Finding it too hard to stand but smiling widely.

'I got some control over him after all.'

"We don't have any."

"Let's get some."

"Do you remember saying that you don't want to go out?"

"I don't…no... I do! But I want …what they're called. You know, that. And a walk might do me good. The house's been stuffy for a while now."

He sighed and picked me up like a baby.

'No. No control whatsoever.'

He set me down, standing on the carpet. Grabbed the jeans he got from the closet, and showed them to me, looking straight into my eyes, to demand: "You do it."

"After you took off my pants and boxers?"

"Do it before I change my mind." He shut his eyes which was a mistake.

I lifted one leg up and got one toe caught in the pants immediately. That and the sudden dizziness sent me stumbling toward the table. He caught me by the elbow before I smashed my head on it.

"How about you do it after you've sobered up?"

"Deal."

I felt like a child while he told me to hold up my arms and slid on a baby blue oversized sweater with one white line near the collar. But like his partner when he was staring at my naked thighs while fondling with the pants for no reason. Hesitating to put them on.

"It's cold," I complained to make him hurry. Embarrassed by everything he was seeing, but unable to do anything but to keep pulling the sweater over my genitals.

"Turn around." He said softly.

"No."

"Turn." He said louder.

"If you tell me why…"

"Because I want to stare at your butt."

"You suck." I frowned.

That's all I got to say before the pants he was holding fell to the ground. He used one hand to turn me on my belly by the shoulder. The other to push me down by the hair and bend me over the table. And in the house that my parents have never spanked me, my boyfriend did it on the table that they ate on not too long ago.

"Aw…"

One spank, two spanks, three, four, and five. It echoed around the room.

The skin was reddening and jiggling from the constant, harsh impact.

A brief pause was followed by five more spanks on the other ass cheek. They were so rough that they had me slightly jumping up the table, limp cock bumping on the hard surface each time.

I didn't know what to do after he's stopped, but to breathe as if I had been running a little.

He, however, helped me back up and slid my pants on while he was on his knees as if nothing had occurred. As if it had been a mishap of my imagination.

I was dizzily swaying towards the front door, feeling the sting from in and out my ass with every step.

"What did you do that for?" I dared to ask when he was tying my shoelaces with my hands resting on his shoulders.

"No reason."

"Punishment?"

"That was no punishment…I saw you getting a bit hard from it by the way. You, masochist."

"That's not why...ahem...did you just want to hit me?"

"No…I want to fuck you. But that'll do for now."

The blushing, I could feel it and yet couldn't control it.

"Something is seriously wrong with you," I informed him while struggling to find the right key that'd fit in the hole.

"Same statement, right back at you"

He snatched the keys from my hands.

"We're fucked." I uttered, mostly to myself.

"No. You're fucked."

"I meant…"

"Jungkook, get out this house or I swear to god that I will lose what's left of my sanity!"

"Fine! Fine…"

I was out. He locked the door after us. And three steps later, I was holding myself up by the wall.

He tried getting me to hold onto him, but I refused to. The neighbor that saw me feeling the wall on the way to the elevator probably disagreed with my 'empowered' decision.

"Hold my arm."

"No."

"Hold my hand."

"No…"

"Hold onto my jacket then. Anything. You'll trip, Jungkook. You're too…"

"Good morning."

"Good morning." We both said in unison to the woman and the child who joined us in the elevator.

The tiny boy was staring at me weirdly.

I walked out slowly. Both were out of the building before I made it to the middle of the hallway.

Namjoon didn't walk before me. He followed me closely like a parent following a troubled child. Letting me pick where I was going to hold onto. And how fast we were moving.

'Jacket it is.'

The trees in front of the building were decorated. The fence of the building was decorated. Slow, steady lights went on and off. Lights that I couldn't turn off.

I was both grateful and apologetic to Namjoon all the way to the supermarket.

I went inside the crowded store holding onto him for dear life.

He led us straight to the junk food aisle.

"Anything else?" He inquired tossing more than one croissant in the plastic blue basket.

"Do we have enough juice?"

"Don't know."

"Sprite?"

"In the back, let's go."

"I'll...I'll sttay hherre. You go." I stuttered.

"I'm not leaving you here, Jungkook. Now come on."

He took one step so I had to take one step too since we were connected at the elbow.

"Don't move me…" I requested a bit too loudly.

When he first turned, he seemed mad, but that faltered in a second.

"Do you want to sit down?"

"Are there any chairs in the supermarket?" I joked, yet looked around seriously.

"Sit on me." Namjoon's worry was not lost on me. But it still had me smirking.

"Shh. That sounds…dirty…"

The chocolate bars and Nutella jars were getting blurrier and blurrier. And pretty soon, all sound was gone like a light switch was turned off. There was a faint flicker of a Christmas light somewhere far away right before it all turned to black.

'I'm scared.'

I heard myself thinking that, but once I was in the void, there were no more thoughts. I was there and then I wasn't.

Nothing was here. And whatever I was blended in with the dark matter. We became one. One big nothing until Namjoon's worried face was above mine once again. It seemed like a million years had passed but it probably didn't. My heart jumped and then fell right back into my chest. Regaining a steady rhythm that copied his.

'Ah…It's fine. He's here. I'm fine.'

He was holding my head up a few centimeters above the ground. I was a bit embarrassed by how romantic this must've looked from an outside perspective and how I was obviously the girl even in this situation.

"Hey…" He whispered, tone soft and warm.

"Hey."

"You fainted."

"I fainted?"

"You're eating healthier starting tomorrow."

"No…I'm eating Nutella."

We were smiling. But the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Only a few days later, I wished that I could eat healthy food. Or eat anything at all.

"Hold the egg."

"But it's hot!"

"I just took it out of hot water. Of course it's hot!"

I was blowing on my fingers, the egg precariously balancing on top.

"Then why are you telling me to hold it?! Put it, aw, somewhere else!" And complained at the same time.

"Just one more minute!"

"I don't have one mi…Namjoon?

"Hmm?"

"I've dropped it."

He turned, holding a half-clean spoon, looking down at the broken egg on the floor, oozing its yellow substance. Namjoon kept staring at it with an angry look.

"I told you that it was too hot." He pointed out, while I was backing away, hearing him perfectly although his voice was barely above a whisper. "And I told you that was the last egg."

"Then why did you give it to me?" I tried asking sweetly, but that did not prompt a blink whatsoever.

"Because I didn't realize that we were out of clean dishes before the egg's finished boiling!"

"Why didn't you…"

He cut off my sweet tone with a harsh: "Because I'm drunk!"

"Well…I am high and a bit tipsy as well."

"That's it. We're going to keep starving."

He threw the spoon in the sink without looking. With some strength too, like it couldn't possibly have chipped any of the stacked dirty plates, despite the noisy sound, and walked away.

"No! No! This is the second day of nothing… And I can't take it anymore! We'll die, Namjoon!" I exclaimed, dramatically, following him.

"What do you want me to do?! There's nothing in the fridge. And don't you think about eating the egg from the floor. We haven't it cleaned in…how long?"

"We need to go to the store."

"And get arrested? I think not."

"We're not going to get arrested." But as soon as I went into the bedroom and saw him spilling beer on his clothes, added a shy: "If you change your clothes and give me some eye drops, we can pull it off."

'We've nothing, but water and beer though. Why do we have so much bottled water and beer!' I thought.

"No clean laundry." He shrugged.

"Take some of mine." I offered.

He turned to look at me with almost the same expression when he saw the egg. But squinting.

"Did you see your clothes? They're all…your size."

"Well, excuse me, but I am pretty tall for a Korean young man. It's you who's Massive." I pointed from his face to his toes and enunciated a clear: "Everywhere."

"And you're so damn small. You should be ashamed."

I was aware that he didn't mean it but I couldn't help feeling upset either way.

He looked guilty just as automatically.

"Don't make that face. I'm just hungry, drunk, and …tired. Come here. Come here."

He crossed his legs on the floor mattress and patted his lap. I found myself right in that spot like a trained pet. He was massaging the scalp and playing with the hair while assuring me of what I already knew: "I like that you're small. I like everything about you. Though I wish your ass was…ouch." I bit his arm. "A bit, a tiny bit looser but that's not something I can't help you with."

"I'm hungry," I stated, rubbing my cheek against his warm hand.

"Me too."

"I have no energy left..."

"No. We can't fall asleep again. Remember? We made a promise to each other…some time ago?"

"What promise?" I absently asked, too comfortable to care.

"We're eating today."

"We don't have anything. Let's just try again after we wake up." I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around his middle.

He was too busy sipping beer until he realized that I was already dozing off.

"No. Bad. Up. Now. You look bad…"

"Mm. Thanks."

But I was dragged up to my feet against my will and stripped off without any warning.

"Hurry. It's cold."

Naked way before he'd picked out any clothes to cover me. I stood not far from him while he kept searching in the pile of clothes inside his closet that may or may not be dirty.

"Here. Put this one on."

"I don't like that one."

"Then do the laundry."

"...you do it..." I mumbled and slid the yellow sweater on with a frown.

"Now for me…"

"Namjoon?"

He turned to come face to face with my shriveling crotch.

"You don't think pants are necessary for me like...ever? Or boxers. Or socks. Just give me anything! It's so cold now and it's all your fault so hurry up!"

But he didn't go back to searching in the closet since he was busy staring. I saw the dirty cogs turning in the inebriated brain, so I forced his head in the opposite direction with shaky, cold hands. As if I had just pressed a button, he resumed making a bigger mess out of a contained mess and passed me a pair of pants that were clearly too big but that thankfully came with a belt. All the while mumbling something about the color pink.

"Wait. Where are my clothes?"

"Don't know."

We were dressed. Half an hour later.

And while he was searching for his wallet, I smoked what was left of my late-morning joint. And while I was brushing my teeth and dropping eye drops in my bloodshot eyeballs, he had one more beer.

After we took exactly two steps out the door, we turned back around since neither had a jacket on.

Not much time later, we were holding hands not caring who saw mainly because we were keeping each other standing somehow. The wind was not kind either. It was as if it wanted us to go back inside.

"It's closed."

"What time is it?"

"Seven PM?"

"Didn't we wake up at 2 PM?"

"Probably?" My teeth rattled.

"What did we do for five hours?!"

"Talked about how good some food would be. And something else. I don't remember. But does it matter? It's been closed since 6. God…I hate holidays."

He sighed and then seemed to ponder.

"I don't know any place that's open, do you?" I inquired, rubbing my freezing hands by his jacket.

"The market by your house is probably still open. But …. massaging our bellies! That's what we've been doing. To see if that can make the hunger go away. I've remembered."

"That didn't take five hours. Did it?" And when he started pulling me toward a familiar direction, I realized what he had previously said and refused to let him walk further, "You want to risk my family seeing us like this?"

"Is your mom still at your place?"

"Like a ghost of Christmas pregnant." I deadpanned.

"Then let's go to a restaurant."

"And they claimed you have the IQ of a genius…"

He squinted at me, offended.

"I know of one that's open all year round besides October third. And that's because…don't ask. Come on."

I let him take me to this magical place, engulfed by certain disbelief. Convinced that he was delusional.

But then I saw someone coming out of two massive wooden doors and then saw Namjoon pointing at the blurry sign hanging beside the door.

"You Are a genius."

"Never doubt me again." He went ahead and held the door open for me with a smile, saying a cheesy: "After you."

It was warm inside. Dark orange and blue painted lights with a traditional atmosphere. Wooden floors were covered by big, old intricate carpets and light brown tablecloths covered the top of every wooden table.

If I didn't know better, it was almost like an improved extension of his wood-covered house. But hopefully, their fridge had something edible inside it.

We sat down; hands still buried in pockets. I was stuck shivering, but he was already ordering.

"Right away." The waiter let us know before taking the menus away.

"I didn't get to read it. Why'd you order so fast?"

"Can you even read?"

"Shut up…"

"I've been here a million times before. Trust me, you'll like this soup. And the noodles. And pretty much everything. The customers who know of this place are …peculiar and especially loud. But the food's the best, provided you come when the second chef is on the clock. And no one bothers you if you don't bother them."

"How did you find this place? I've never heard of it…or of the street itself."

"Fred. We used to eat here at the end of almost every week. And then, well, after my grandma died and I started chasing after you, we've stopped coming here."

He looked around as if he was remembering something. The dim lights were making him look like he belonged here. The dark, long curtains framed him. And the ongoing low instrumental made the place feel cozy. As if there was a fireplace that one couldn't see but that could be felt.

"Chasing after me?"

"It was the club. I think we used to come when you had club activities. And then Mona moved in too. Maybe that was it. Or who knows?"

Just like he said, there was a couple arguing in the far corner. Not looking ashamed of their volume, and no one else besides me seemed bothered by it either. Not even the waiters asked them to stop screaming.

"Sorry. I stole that away from you."

"Jungkook, that was my decision. Not your fault. Ok? Now eat."

"But the food hasn't arrived yet." As soon as I've finished that sentence, a steaming bowl that was the side of my head was placed right in front of me and another right in front of Namjoon.

"Rice?" The waiter asked, looking down at his small notepad.

We simultaneously nodded.

We didn't waste any time talking about memories or worried about the way we smelt or looked. We swallowed every drop of soup and every grain of rice like it was our last. The arguing of the two became one with the background music. And just when I was about to ask him if it was possible for a stomach to explode after eating a lot after not eating very much, I heard him ordering two portions of noodles with chicken.

"Namjoon, I am glad to see you're eating well, but I don't think I can walk as it is...noodles sound great as a last meal, but that's what it's going to be... our last meal."

He rolled his eyes, eyeing a glass of bourbon from another table.

"We're taking it home. We have nothing. Remember?"

"Oh, right. Smart."

I ignored the smugness of his drunk smile and exclaimed a childish: "What desserts do they have?"

"No. You're eating healthy." The pointing finger made me want to bite it. But I only stared back with furrowed eyebrows.

"You mean my diet of air and beer was not good enough?"

"And stale bread. Don't forget that." He sighed and narrated what was on the menu as if he knew it by heart.

"The fried bananas have chocolate sauce on them?"

"Shaved coconut."

"And chocolate sauce on top of the shaved coconut?"

He shrugged lazily and threw a: "I'll ask." my way.

We were out into the unmerciful wind about fifteen minutes later. I was praising the soup and building a conspiracy theory on what was happening in the only dead silence place of that restaurant: the kitchen. He was complaining about my inability to trust his brain every single time he made a suggestion.

With great difficulty, after walking slower than two grandmas, we ended up in front of the door of his place with no key in sight.

"Search by the stairs."

"Maybe we dropped them at the restaurant?" I wondered, but started looking anyways.

And when I was sure that we were both going to have to kick the glass of the sliding door until it was going to break or freeze to death, Namjoon stood still and dug inside his pockets.

"Wait. There's a hole in this jacket."

"Can you hear anything when you move it?"

"The pocket?"

"The jacket!"

"No. I don't hear anything. Do you?"

Ten minutes of wandering around, followed by one embarrassing extraction of the keys from the insides of Namjoon's jacket, and we've finally made it inside.

"I'm not going out ever again," I informed him before darting to the bathroom.

"Hey, I am the one whose bladder's exploding."

"I'm taking a bath!"

Maybe it was the fact that we've spent so much time together the past year that I hadn't realized it. Maybe it was the sex we've had on Fred's bed or on the carpet that I've had for way too many years while my parents were in the other room. Or maybe it was the booze that had Namjoon peeing in the toilet while I was submerged in little to no water.

I wasn't looking, but I could hear it.

I've never felt more relief at the sound of someone washing their hands after a taking a piss.

"You just took all the warm water! All of it."

"It'll come back. Be patient."

I was hugging myself, knees up to the chest, scooting away rapidly from the cold splashing water.

"I was alreeaddy freeezzingg."

"Then why did you get naked before you hopped in?"

"Obvviousslly, becccausse I am an iddiot. WWhy do you assk!? Hold onn... Wasn't I supppposseed to get nakkeed beffore haavingg a baath?"

There was no reply, but the sound of the shower curtain getting drawn. And then Namjoon. looking down at a trembling body with an expression that I haven't seen before.

He took all of his clothes off faster than he had peed and then joined in, and forced me up to his chest with two swift movements.

"Nammjooonnn. I just atte soo…"

"Am I not warm enough? Why are you still shaking?"

I looked up, but he was checking the tap behind him.

And then he grabbed my hands and started rubbing them together with his. Saying:

"Gather your feet too."

I could only watch as something fell from my throat right into the pit of my stomach. But that was the only warmth I was experiencing.

'He's not thinking about the fact that we're both naked. He's only…warming me up.'

He kept caressing and rubbing until the water made it past knee level. Scolding hot water. But I almost didn't notice. I was stuck staring at his concerned face until he, at last, realized I'd been observing him without uttering a single word.

"Is there something on my face?"

"Noodle." I quickly lied.

"Where?"

"There." I pretended to pick something up only to throw it at once. And just like I'd thought, a drunk Namjoon was not one who paid attention to whether there was something between my fingers or if something did indeed hit the bathroom tiles.

"Thanks."

A kiss on my fingers and then an embrace. That was all. We stood embraced while the water was rising slowly but surely up to a dangerous level. I was the one who turned it off. And I was the one who started washing him when we almost fell asleep.

He was sitting down, letting me gravitate around him. Stark naked. And I would've started being worried that he was upset with me since we hadn't done it since Christmas. That him, not getting a present until now had been slowly eating at him.

But it was hard to make that assumption, considering the fact that he stole the soap right out of my hand while I was scrubbing his back standing up, with my junk near his face. Yet, all he did was soap up everything and anything that was in his vicinity. But not one touch lingered more than the other. Not one shove, nor push happened. Not one squeeze or pull. He covered me in soap, stood up, and started washing the head too, uttering the simple words: "Close your eyes."

I was anxiously waiting for a dirty remark. A misplaced hand or a forceful kiss. But then he unclogged the tub and used the shower to wash it all off of me and then did the same for himself.

He walked out, while I stood in the middle of the empty tub, dumbfounded. Dripping water.

He covered me in questionably clean towels and told me to keep them on until I made it under the covers since I might catch a cold.

Then he got me room temperature water as soon as we made it under said covers.

Tv remote in one hand, a cup of water in the other. One he poured for me after he drank one himself like it was a tequila shot.

His head was on the pillow, arms around my half-toweled waist.

Ready for sleep.

I was enjoying the normalcy that had been happening the past few days.

I blamed it on the booze. I blamed it on accusing him of being 'the man'. I kept blaming everything. And savoring this bit of peace and quiet in which I was not afraid to bump into him, or kiss him for an extended period of time. Watch movies while cuddling. Listening to the same music at the same time and doing nothing else.

Feeling like an equal.

But I had been avoiding exposing my body for the entire time. Despite teasing him back when a hand lingered on my hip or sitting in his lap, ignoring the feeling of his genitals against my clothed butt.

Not once did it occur to me that whether he saw me naked or not, it wouldn't have made any difference.

Now, the worry grew as big as the Tv from the little remote. I found myself watching him sleeping peacefully instead of the screen, thinking:

'Should I be concerned or glad?'

I was switching from one channel to the next, seeing nothing. And hearing everything way too loudly.

No longer cold. I didn't know how long it had been since the last time I felt this warm, but after drinking too much water for an already full stomach. It was only getting worse.

Hence, I got up and walked up to the kitchen to splash some cold water on my face. Put on Namjoon's clothes and opened the back door to smoke by the cracked door, hoping it would help me fall asleep.

'Is he trying to make me come onto him?'

The air around me felt good against my skin. Be it cold or hot, it was all good. Too good.

My stomach filled to the brim with something that could only be a burning blue flame.

And then there was a sound coming from the bedroom.

'What is that?' I got up. 'Didn't I turn the Tv off?' But almost fell over the table since I bumped into it, completely forgetting that it had always been there.

"Jungkook?!"

"Hm?" I forced out but he probably couldn't hear it.

"The phone."

"Phone?"

"Your new phone!"

I needed to run. That's what I told myself. Not because I wanted to answer but to make the loud noise stop.

But I couldn't run. For some reason, unknown to me, the blandest colors were looking brighter again. The heart was beating so fast that it hurt and all I could do was keep myself walking by leaning against the wall like a disabled person.

'It's so warm in here. Maybe I did catch a cold…'

Right when I was about to go into the bedroom, I heard Namjoon uttering a sleepy: "Yeah? Hi?"

"Who is it?" I whispered from the door frame, but he didn't even bother to lift his head off the pillow or open his eyes.

"…Me and Jungkook…well, he's sleeping over since his parents didn't come to see him on Christmas and I didn't want him to be alone….Mhm, yeah. On new year's?"

"Aren't you nice?" I mumbled sarcastically and then whispered a bit louder "Who is it?"

"All four? Sounds good. Where exactly is it…Yeah, text on this number….Hm? Because I'll probably forget if you don't."

The forced laugh, some polite well-wishes, and a goodbye later, the phone got thrown on top of my pillow and as if nothing's happened. He seemed ready to go back to sleep.

I asked one more time, but with a normal volume: "Namjoon? Who was it? Text what?"

"Kwan." The happy tone from before, completely gone.

"…and?"

"Invited us to go to a club with Sony and the others on New Year's Eve. Do you wanna go?"

"You've already told her that we'll go." I reminded him, frowning.

"…it was the fastest way to end the conversation. But if you don't want to, we can make something up."

"No, I don't mind. I'll go."

"Ok." One yawn, a hug of my pillow, and the man was out like a light.

Despite knowing that, and being the only one who could feel the wind creeping through the back sliding door, I still asked: "Is it just me or is it really hot in here?"

Hours later, after I did nothing but stare at the dark forest while drinking water, I tossed and turned. Skin tingling, heart making unprotected jumps off a cliff, and then climbing back up to do it again. And every time I opened my eyes, the colors were too bright even though it was probably almost midnight.

At some point, Namjoon must've felt me moving since he just held me still with one hand and with the soberest, serious tone inquired: "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel too good…"

He checked for a fever.

"I feel like I got too high from the weed or something." I went on, hating how desperate my voice sounded.

"Hold on."

He went to the kitchen and got me water.

"I already had a ton of water and I don't think I can swallow anymore…"

"Drink."

"But..."

"Drink."

Two cups later I was not much better but he held me, which made my breathing copy his. The sweat mixing. The world kept turning on its head.

But I felt well enough to fall asleep.

I woke up still in his arms on the 30-th of December with no appetite. However, Namjoon wouldn't have it.

"Just swallow as you would a pill."

"I would if it was a pill. But this is food. Greasy noodles and…"

"Hey!" He cut me off with one finger in the air, "Don't knock it until you try it. Now dig in."

"But I am nauseous, Namjoon."

"You know where that comes from?"

"Smoking every four hours?"

"Not eating."

We were sat down, knees touching under the table. The Tv making noise in the bedroom. I could hear it perfectly despite the fact that I, myself turned it down a few minutes ago.

'Did Fred lace my weed with something?' I thought, suddenly alarmed.

"What do you want to do today?"

He casually asked before grunting at my noodles, picking some up with his spoon, and shoving it into my mouth after he asked me a question.

"I don't know," I responded, chewing unhappily. But he understood me somehow. "I almost wish I didn't quit my job so I had something to do."

"Did we really send our Uni papers or was it a dream?"

"It was real," I said, a bit too confidently. Doubting it a moment later.

We locked eyes. His paranoia mimicking mine a bit too well:

"Should we call them to make sure?"

"One day before new year's?" I asked with genuine amusement.

"Why not?

"Aa…because they might be having the day off?"

"Right. Let's watch a movie."

"Too loud."

"Read a book?"

"You're so funny." I caressed his arm.

"Cards?"

"Do you even have cards?"

"Of course I have cards." He sounded insulted.

"And where did you hide them until today?"

"The bookcase that's right in front of you." He pointed. I smiled darkly.

"That's not a bookcase Namjoon. That's stuff on top of shelves bolted to a wall."

"There used to be more books, but then, it's close to the front door, so it got convenient…"

He left my side and started searching through it lazily.

I was keeping an eye on him since I had to seamlessly blend in as many noodles into his plastic tray.

"Found them."

When he returned to the table, he threw them in my lap. Cards that had angels and demons drawn on them.

"What the heck are these?" I asked, picking them up to see better.

"Tarot cards."

"And how do you play with…" My mouth was full again, but to my demise, he started putting some food from his container into mine.

'How the hell did he see me?'

"Look at the back."

I turned one of the cards and sure enough, there were numbers written in black marker.

"Why didn't you buy normal ones?"

"They were my grandma's." He shrugged. "I found them when I was little and the power was out. Dad …modified them so we could play to pass the time."

"Oh. Did you and your dad do a lot of things together?" I quickly asked, clearly curious. But as if I had just burned him, he got up immediately after he murmured an absent: "Not really."

He was in the kitchen, searching for a beer in a matter of seconds.

I laid the cards on the table and picked up only one that my high brain thought was meant to be the answer to all of my problems:

'Seven of swords?'

"Hey, is there a book that explains the meaning of these cards?"

"Yeah, there is. But I don't know where." He opened the fridge, "Which game do you know how to play?"

"Solitaire," I answered without thinking.

"Ouch. And you have a brother too." And he slammed the door shut.

"Spite and malice, go fish, and crazy 8's."

"Do you know how to play War?"

"The one who has the bigger card takes the opponent's card?"

"Yeah, and who gets them all wins. That one."

"But that's no fun. It's all up to chance."

"You really want to think a lot right now?" He emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of water and a smirk, "Your headache's all healed up from a few noodles huh."

We were now sitting facing each other. And for some reason, the floor felt colder.

Putting cards down and picking them back up in utter silence. Pretty soon, the cold beers he's had were showing their dark colors on him. I kept feeling sicker by the minute but just ignored it. And let him force-fed me the handpicked vegetables from the noodles and calming tea.

"Didn't you put down an eight of diamonds already?"

'No smoking until noon…no smoking until…'

"Jungkook?"

"Huh? What?"

"Are you cheating?"

"Why would I cheat? It's not like we're playing for a prize."

"How about a punishment then?"

We kept moving the cards up and down but Namjoon's face had more color than it did before.

"I'm not washing the dishes Namjoon." I deadpanned.

"Who said anything about washing dishes?"

I swallowed what little saliva I had.

"I told you that I don't feel well."

"Hmm...just strip for me then."

"You are so confident that you're going to win, aren't you?" I mocked.

"Oh, I am going to win. And it is war, by the way."

I had lost six cards, while spitting back nonsense.

"It's a game of luck. Of chance. Your brain has nothing to do with it. You're the one who picked it."

"Who lied to you? I'm a lucky, lucky guy." He went on.

Ten minutes later, I was losing 3 to 6.

"One more," I requested.

"No."

"Come on. Punish me after you win ten times."

He lightly scoffed with a smile, saying: "Taking your clothes off is such a cruel punishment? Changing clothes must be hell then."

I sighed, averting my eyes from his intense stare: "When it's this cold... it is."

"You said you were hot yesterday."

"I am not hot today."

"Yes, you are."

That remark excused me from dealing the cards for the following rounds.

"At least take off your shirt." His words held no real desire. It seemed as if he was talking for the sake of talking now.

"No."

An eternity later, it was 8 to 9.

"Well, it seems like the Gods are finally bestowing some mercy on you." Sarcasm was sprinkled on every word.

"Do the cards while I smoke."

"You're preparing yourself for getting naked? How about a new rule to the punishment?" The mischievousness was apparent on his face.

"I'm listening." I blurted out quickly before inhaling deeply.

"You only get to put your clothes back on if you win the next round."

"I'm beating your ass, Kim. Besides that, what do we do if one loses twice in a row?"

"Wash the dishes?" He inquired quietly.

Squinting, I didn't miss a beat before letting out a decisive: "No."

Blurry card after another blurry card. It was only after half the joint was gone that it dawned on me that I was in the lead although I was blinking way slower than I should've. My eyes were getting moist while the inside of my mouth was so dry, I could barely unglue the upper lip from the bottom one.

But when I've actually won, I stood still, surprised with the last two cards in one hand, and the whole deck in the other.

He wasn't a sore loser. He shrugged, stood up, and started taking his clothes off.

I looked away, thinking: 'Wait. I didn't think this through…'

He sat back down and took off his socks as well.

"Shouldn't you be happier?" He asked, tone light. Eyes, holding nothing, but pure amusement.

"I am, but now…I will see your crotch every time I pick up a card."

"Hmm…"

He started shuffling with way too much experience for his age. Therefore, I went to grab a beer too.

He didn't let me touch it until I drank all the tea in one go and ate most of the chicken. By then, I was too full to even taste it.

It was hard to keep myself from looking at his body. I tried to keep focusing on his hands instead, but his hands went between his crossed legs more often than I thought they would.

'He doesn't look like he's cold…'

If he noticed that I kept peeking at his body, he didn't say anything.

He kept dealing, I kept losing, as if the cards wanted to make sure we were both going to get naked.

"Five to two. I guess you're going to be colder in a minute."

"War. Five cards."

Half a bitter beer down, and I had my head against the sliding door, looking ahead at his face, not even bothering to look down when I've put a card down.

"Take them."

"Put them aside for me."

He did it without asking why I wasn't moving much.

I was somehow, by some miracle, winning again.

Despite the fact that my cheeks were burning, my pants felt heavier and I was busy keeping my eyes above his chest rather than checking if my card's number was higher.

'I should've tried playing the lottery today…and I might've won.'

But all I've won was a naked Namjoon washing the dishes.

In my newfound dizziness, I wobbled to him and back hugged him.

"Hmm?" That was his only reaction.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slurring some words.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I mean…" I closed my eyes to regain some clarity and put my lips to his bareback, and breathed in. "aren't you cold?"

I could hear him smiling.

"No. But do you want to warm me up anyways?"

The undertones of this question were not lost on me, but our position only reminded me of the time he abused his power and jerked me off on the kitchen counter right beside us.

"That's what I am doing…"

Fingers linked on his lean abdomen. I simply let them hang there. A small desire to be touched by him was there and yet the fear of him touching me until I'll lose any sense of self was bigger.

Conflicted if I truly wanted to end this sexual vacation that we had going on at all.

"You're a tease." He let me know playfully.

I chuckled.

"Jungkook?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm done."

"Why? What did I do?" I asked, raising my arms, filled with newfound adrenaline.

"…the dishes. All clean."

"Oh."

I turned and walked toward the bedroom as soon as he turned around.

I could feel him watching me while my leg was cramping up. I checked my hips as soon as I plummeted on the floor mattress only to find one bruise on each.

'That's weird…I don't remember…'

"Jungkook?!" He screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah?!"

"Want to play some more?!"

"No! There'll be only one winner today!"

"Fine. Do you want some water?!"

"Sure!

Hours later, after being force-fed plain noodles by a naked man who refused to get dressed, going on and on about how one should keep his word. Hours after the stand-up comedy show ended and our laughter died out. A few hours into the 31-th of December, while I was sleeping, I could've sworn that I felt Namjoon's hand going from my abdomen to the inside of the pajama pants for a moment before falling back asleep.