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There’s always that one summer-day where it’s so hot you genuinely think the only way to escape the heat would be to somehow remove your skin and then everything underneath it.
Today is that day. And you just so happen to be spending it with an equally uncomfortably-sweaty shifter named Jeon Jungkook.
His white tank top sticks to his skin as sweat (quite literally) drips down his exposed sides. His thighs strain against a pair of black basketball shorts, and his comforter lay kicked off the side of the bed to make as much room for fresh air as possible.
You lay in a similar state: your short-shorts barely cover the top halves of your thighs and you’ve rolled your tank-top until just below your breasts in an effort to leave as much of your sweaty skin open to the single fan placed desperately at the foot of the bed.
“I’m gonna die,” Jungkook moans loudly, throwing an arm over his face. You look over at him with an amused snort. His shirt has ridden up, showing off the skin at his waist.
You try and glide your eyes quickly over the sight of his abs so he doesn’t notice you staring.
You watch as a drop of sweat runs down his side and resist the urge to push your hand under the slit in his shirt to run your palm over his stomach. You shake your head free of that fantasy immediately, blaming your inappropriate train of thoughts on heat stroke. (A more honest part of yourself knows it’s because seeing Jungkook sweaty and frustrated is doing things to you.)
“I hate summer,” you groan, turning on your stomach in an effort to air out the sweat collecting between your shoulder blades and the small of your back.
“I wish the river was closer.” Jungkook sighs, his eyes still covered by his arm. He grabs one side of the waistband of his shorts and pushes it down until it’s barely around his hips. Your eyes glue themselves to his v-line for a few seconds before you force them closed.
“No way in hell I’m walking an hour in this heat to go swimming,” you say. Your heat-stroked brain comes up with the tempting idea to strip yourself down to your underthings. It’s not like you have anything to be embarrassed about—you’re wearing a matching set of underwear, and though you have some fat around your lower abdomen (uterus-wielder things, amiright?), you’ve never been too bothered by it. Especially not when you’re getting so hot you feel like you’re about to melt into a Y/N-shaped puddle of sweat.
Besides, it’s not like you’re trying to impress anybody…
You briefly open your eyes and deduce that Jungkook isn’t faring much better. His shorts sit dangerously low on his hips (you swear he pushed them down even further) and he has a hand up his shirt, over his stomach.
You really couldn’t give fewer craps when you say, “Okay, fuck this shit,” and sit up to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a black sports bra. As much as you wish you could take them off, you decide to keep your shorts on for the sake of decency (and societal standards for states-of-undress with your completely platonic male best friend).
“Just take off your shirt, Kook,” you say as you lay down again, already feeling much better without your shirt sticking to your skin.
“You could’ve just asked if you wanted to see me shirtless.” Jungkook grins, sitting up to reach behind him and tug his shirt over his head. He sighs when the cool-ish air from the fan hits his sides and chest, laying back down next to you.
“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes. Trust in Jungkook to be an annoying (albeit correct ) little shit even in 37°C (98,6°F) heat. “Don’t get too excited, pup.”
He turns to look at you and whines. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
“Why not?” You don’t bother hiding the incredulousness in your voice. “It’s cute! Plus, it’s better than bunny .” You nudge his bicep with your elbow.
He scoffs. “Bunny fits you perfectly.”
“Yeah? Name one thing that makes me a bunny.” You push yourself onto your elbow so you can look at him better.
“You’re skittish and jump at the smallest sounds—almost more than Jin hyung does. When you chew you chew quickly and kind of to the side of your cheek. When someone calls you, you look up in the way rabbits do when they think they heard something dange—“
You gently push his cheek to the side, unable to stop your smile at his adorably delighted giggle. “Okay, okay, I get it. You can stop, now.”
He grins and closes his eyes, his hands intertwined on his lower stomach. “Whatever you say, Bunny.”
You scrunch your nose disapprovingly. “If anything, you’re the bunny with your cute little nose scrunches and bunny smiles—“
“You think I’m cute?”
“Jeon Jungkook I swear —“