BTS WWYD GAME

114. Shit, I Didn't Mean To

There is a man you love, though he sometimes dresses like a clown. His name is Yoongoongi - I mean Jung Hoseok. Anyway, you'd been dating now for a little over a year, and he'd been real good to you, spoiling you with not only material things, but also his affections. 

One of the things you loved to do was borrow his clothes. They were oversized, comfy, and they smelled like him. What wasn't to love about that? Nothing. The answer is nothing. It was heaven inside of his extra baggy pants, roomy enough to fit not only you, but him as well, as you two sometimes spent the afternoon doing, being the weird couple that you were.

Truth be told, you may have gotten a little addicted to the comfort. You found yourself stealing his clothes more and more often. Your own wardrobe sat lonely on their hangers, going to rot, as day by day, you slowly started turning into a Korean cross-dresser.

Hoseok didn't really mind, although he did miss seeing the outline of your figure that would show up on the odd day where you did wear your own, formfitting clothes. Still, he found it sweet, touching really, how you loved being so close to him.

Then one day, after stepping out of the shower, you noticed a pair of Hoseok's jeans in the hamper and couldn't help but to slip them on, cinching the waist tightly with a belt so they wouldn't fall off your narrow hips. You found one of his shirts as well and slipped that on too, pausing briefly to sniff the collar before padding out into the living room to find that boy you loved.

He was sitting on the ugly, overstuffed sofa, big enough to fit seven handsome dorks plus one adorable you, watching TV. As soon as he saw you walk in, he pressed pause on Sesame Street, and turned to you, a megawatt smile lighting up his whole face.

"Aww, baby. Look how cute you look!" he said, setting free dozens of dancing butterflies in your heart.

"Heehonk!" you snorted bashfully. "I know right?"

You smiled in return, and he held out his arms for you. The two of you usually cuddled during Elmo's World. Just then, you felt a bubbly sensation in your tummy. Thinking it was a fart, you pushed, as hard as you could, so that you wouldn't stink up his lap. Only you'd made one very crucial mistake. You'd forgotten life's golden rule:

Never trust a fart.

What had started as a dry, dusty, POOF sound, quickly turned sour and wet. Your fart had turned into a shart, and there was now a pile of shit in your ass, in the back of Hoseok's jeans.

Hoseok's smile slipped off his chin and landed with a dull thud on the hard, marble floor of his apartment. His great nostrils furrowed in frustration before wiggling a few times fast. He'd smelled your shit, and it showed.

Happy Hobi was gone; an entire Hoseok took his place.

It wasn't often you'd seen him mad in your relationship, but as he gritted out the words, "Did you just poop in my jeans?!" you thought you'd never seen him madder.

What would you do?