✔️ Tongue-Tied ➳ vmin

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A/N: I hope you'all are ready for this chapter because it's gonna be nuts

ENJOY THE SHOW~

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"What's keeping you guys?" Jimin barks to the two assholes bumbling their way towards the lift lobby, "Stop screwing around and get your asses here please, I want to get out of this goddamn place."

Tapping his foot impatiently, he musses up his dark hair, grousing to himself. The late afternoon sun shines in through the window, casting distorted shadows upon the carpet.

"Slow down a bit, hyung," Jeongguk says weakly, bleary eyed and still suffering the aftereffects of a hangover. "My stomach's so upset, it's like it's actually mad at me."

In the meantime, a still-disoriented Hoseok trips over his own suitcase and hurtles straight into Jeongguk and knocks the youngest boy off his feet. Screeches fill the air as they end up in a heap on the ground, followed by whimpers of pain. Jimin heaves a huge sigh before making his way back to his two friends and helping them get themselves in order.

The entirety of the morning had been spent cooped up in their room, having his eardrums assaulted by complaints, complaints and more complaining. Hoseok, being the Ultimate Drama Queen he is, has been making a fuss as per usual, whinging about his splitting headache and driving Jimin nuts. The short intervals when he does shut up are to sprint to the washroom to throw up, taking turns with the maknae for the use of the toilet bowl, his mouth permanently turned down in that signature frown. Jimin would find it hilarious if he wasn't feeling so crappy himself.

While sounds of retching had filled his ears, Jimin had dozed on his bed, nursing the terrible cold he caught due to his late night expedition in the chill. He barely slept a wink last night, wary of that guy in the room next door, afraid that he'll charge down the door (but that's what stupid auto locks are for) or burst through the wall (he's just being paranoid now).

Evidently, everyone's too hungover to even mention anything about the night before, Jimin deciding to let everything slide for the moment. Some things are better not said. Whatever happened last night, the entire 'traumatizing' experience, is strictly under wraps, never to be mentioned again. Only Jimin will ever know.

As they all drag their heavy bodies and their baggage over to the front of the lift, Jeongguk shambles along gracelessly, like he's going to fall on his face at any given moment, evidently experiencing the foul taste of a first hangover. The boy reminds Jimin of a zombie forcefully resurrected from death (or Min Yoongi, his old senior, on a typical Monday morning).

For once, Jeongguk's abnormally quiet, a far cry from his usual endearingly cheeky personality, choosing to keep to himself, his mood unreadable. He hardly spoke a word to anyone, only grunting in response to several of Jimin's questions. Hoseok knows better and actually leaves the kid alone. Jimin doesn't remember his first hangover being this severe, but there's no accounting for alcohol tolerance.

Jeongguk kneads the aching muscle of his own ass, face contorted in pain. Hoseok hurries over, patting Jeongguk rather awkwardly on the shoulder before taking a hold of the younger's bags. Jimin's just about to express his concern when he suddenly notices the absurd thing draped around the younger boy's neck.

"Jeongguk, I know your brain is still a shit swamp, but it's fucking August."

"So?" Jeongguk nibbles on his swollen bottom lip, shuffling from his left foot to his right. Hoseok chews on the inside of his cheek.

"Why are you wearing that Iron Man scarf when it's 23 fucking degrees out?" Jimin narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Is your head screwed on right?"