BLACKTAN w/ imagination

Reminder

A/N: Written for a prompt: "morning after one night stand."

She wakes with a muffled sigh, her nose pressed to the pillow, sunlight forcing its way through her closed eyelids to seep into her conscious, reminding her of the time. She makes a face, wondering why her alarm didn't go off; did she forget to set it last night? She was drinking, she remembers, but surely not that much, not enough to make her forget something as important as—

She rolls over, her elbow hits something warm and firm, and she freezes.

Oh, God.

Her eyes pop wide open.

There is someone else in bed with her, someone with his back turned to her, a very masculine and nicely muscled back, and from what she can tell before the sheets cut off the rest of his body, other very nice body parts too. Her gaze travels from his bare skin to his hair, dark brown and shorn in the back, longer at the top, and her brain scrambles to catch up.

Because unless she's mistaken, and she prays with every pounding beat of her heart that she is, she just spent the night with—

"You're awake. Took you long enough."

She closes her eyes again and counts to ten, because that is most definitely the voice she was hoping not to hear. When she opens them, he is facing her, her phone in one hand and a faint smirk on his face.

"Um," she says intelligently.

"I told Chaeyoung you overslept, don't worry," he says, reaching over her to place the phone on the small table by her side of the bed. She suddenly becomes acutely aware of what she is wearing (read: nothing) when his chest brushes hers and she pulls the blankets up to cover herself with a noise of embarrassment.

"It's okay," he says, settling back down, still with that half-smirk curling the corners of his lips. "I've seen them already."

Please tell me this isn't happening.

Her phone vibrates and she grabs it off the table to read a new text from Chaeyoung: It's fine, don't worry about it! I slept late too. ;) By the way, do you know where Jungkook is?

Lisa swallows and drops the phone again, not sure how to respond to that. Yeah, Chaeyoung, he's with me. I think I slept with him last night except I don't remember a thing. I swear I don't sleep with the brother of every bride whose wedding I plan.

She can feel Jungkook staring at her so she forces herself to look at him again, then tries to prevent a blush from creeping over her cheeks at the lazy look in his eyes. She's almost never seen him look anything but annoyed with the world, and it's a nice change, but at the same time—

"Did we—" she blurts, then bites down on her lower lip. Hard.

"You don't remember anything?" His tone is neutral.

"I remember drinking," she admits. "But I never drink much and..." She glances from his face to his neck, and her cheeks burn anew when she sees the red marks littering his collarbone. "Did I do that?"

He shrugs. "Among other things."

Lisa stares up at the ceiling and prays for a hole to open beneath her side of the bed and swallow her whole. Her prayers go unanswered.

"So we..."

It's not a necessary question; she can feel stiffness in her thighs, sore spots in very interesting places, and she has a pretty good idea of what they were up to last night. She has to ask though.

"You really don't remember a thing?"

It must be her imagination; surely he doesn't sound disappointed. She shakes her head.

He blows out a breath but does not say anything else.

For a moment the room is silent and she pushes herself up slightly to look around: judging from the abstract paintings hanging on the wall and the red accents adorning the room, they're in the hotel the reception was held in, the hotel Jungkook was staying in when he flew from Europe last week to attend his sister's wedding. He was around for the past few days and her first thought when seeing him was something eloquent along the lines of unf, but she never expected to—

"Do you need something?"

She blinks. "Huh?"

"Water for a hangover? Your clothing? Some of it's by the doorway."

Lisa imagines him pressing her against the door, his deft hands working at the buttons of her shirt, slipping up the sides of her skirt, and suddenly feels equal parts frustrated and aroused. "Damn," she says.

He raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"I don't remember!"

Her outburst rings in the stillness of the room. She could swear a cricket chirps somewhere outside. After a moment, Jungkook says cautiously, "Do you... want to remember?"

"Of course I want to remember," she snaps. "I haven't had sex in ages and now that I have, and with you, it just figures that I can't recall a damn thing—"

She is cut off with a startled squeak when he turns, facing her in one motion so abrupt he nearly bumps her nose with his. His face is mere centimeters away, every little fleck of black in his brown irises visible, and she gulps as he whispers, his breath hot on her lips, "Do you want a reminder then?"

"I need to—" she starts to say, but then his lips touch hers and she forgets the rest of her sentence.

I worked hard planning Chaeyoung's wedding. I can go clean up and meet with the hotel staff later, she tells herself as his hands settle against her hips. There's a gap in my memories anyway and I might as well fill it up—

The rest of her self-reassurances are quickly lost.