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Chan’s hotel room is already over capacity, despite being a master bedroom. Someone’s phone is connected to the speaker, the music not too loud so it doesn’t bother the staff staying on the lower and upper floors. Someone else is refilling glasses too generously with alcohol Chan bought for them, despite him not drinking a sip of it. It’s loud in that unfocused way that only happens when everyone is a little past happy. They just had a busy, tiring, emotionally draining day and they need to decompress, so they ate together and now, hours after the greasy food has been digested, they’re drinking together.
So, while Chan doesn’t drink, and everyone else is skirting the line between tipsy and drunk with dignity, Jisung is gone. He doesn’t hold his alcohol very well, everyone knows it and everyone has tried to stop him from refilling his glass so many times, but the more he drinks, the whinier he gets, and no one has the energy to fight him. They already know the hungover, splitting headache he’s going to wake up with is going to be enough to keep him away from alcohol for the next couple of months.
Everyone clocks Jisung’s state immediately, but Hyunjin seems the only one who truly wants to do something about it. Maybe because the man has been sitting suspiciously too close to him ever since his second glass while talking with his hands and laughing too hard at nothing. Even laughing at Seungmin's jokes, or Minho's threats about ending his life in the following five minutes if he didn't stop kicking his foot. At first, at the very least. A few seconds later, his already glassy eyes start leaking tears. Jisung starts silently crying while leaning his head on Hyunjin's shoulder and hugging his arm.
Tears stream down his face as he laughs. That's concerning, to say the least, but Hyunjin gets the rest of the members: they've seen it happen so often they don't get fazed any longer. But he does, because Jisung is crying and laughing against his shoulder, teasing him by calling his name without a reason in the world. Just to see if it works to catch his attention.
Of course it does. He turns his head each damn time like a well-trained puppy.
He swears, if he hears another Hyunjin-ah come out of his mouth, he’s starting to use Minho’s threat-technique. His only worry is that more tears are going to spill out of Jisung’s eyes, but does he really need to worry when those tears are basically ninety percent alcohol? Jisung’s not sad, he’s just overly emotional.
By the time he starts rubbing against Hyunjin like a stray cat in need of love, everyone has clocked his behavior. Again, they’re not surprised, but their gaze on him is definitely sharper than a few moments prior. Still glazed with a layer of whatever they’ve been drinking, but sharper, like they’re ready to jump in if the tears turn real. It has happened already.
None of them looks away, eyes locked on Jisung even as they keep joking around and commenting on the exhausting day they just had. They even try to redirect Jisung. Changbin hands him a glass of cold water, but he barely takes a few sips before leaving it on the closest surface. Chan pats his head, trying to lure him onto his own shoulder, but even if it looks like the man is about to purr, he sticks to Hyunjin with such loyalty he’s never displayed before. Minho calls his name teasingly, trying to coax him into his lap, where he usually sits for hours when he’s this far gone.
"No." Jisung mumbles, sound distorted by the cheek pressed against Hyunjin's shoulder.
"Careful, I'm might get jealous." Minho chuckles, grinning from ear to ear, clearly entertained and doing the bare minimum to free Hyunjin from this Jisung-shaped trap of affection.
But usually, Minho’s bare minimum is more than enough to distract drunk Jisung from whatever he’s busy with. This time, not even Felix actively trying to pull him into a hug works, and that’s the moment Hyunjin understands he’s doomed. He understands, with a certainty that makes his stomach sink into the lowest pits of his abdomen, that he has been chosen by drunk Jisung tonight, and nothing is going to change that until he sobers up.
Jisung holds tighter onto his arm, rests his cheek directly on Hyunjin’s shoulder, and breathes on his neck with practiced ease. He’s already done this multiple times, nothing new or weird about it, but he’s never been so adamant about staying put in one place. He usually likes to change members every few minutes until he passes out on the last person, or the closest bed. Yet tonight, he has clung to Hyunjin the whole time.
Hyunjin’s head spins lightly, the alcohol in his system not really helping to lower his body temperature. He’s already feeling pretty warm, despite it being winter and freezing outside, Jisung’s body is the equivalent of a fireplace, and whatever was in the brown bottle Chan got them is strong enough to make him feel like he’s running a fever. He can almost feel the sweat coming— he sweats too easily, it’s almost embarrassing when he’s not running around the stage. And he’s not running on the stage right now— he’s sitting on a chair, wearing a thin t-shirt with his band mate draped over him.
He can’t sweat.
You're so gonna pay for this when you sober up.
Hyunjin thinks, wetting his lips and looking away from Jisung's leg wrapped around his tight.
"Jisung-ah, release the grip, Hyunjin's tired." Felix tries, patting Jisung's thigh slowly.
"I'm tired too. And I want him." Jisung whines, snuggling his face deeper into the crook of Hyunjin's neck. "Hyunjin-ah…" He starts, mumbling, making it barely sound like his name and more like a plea. "Tell them to leave me alone."
"Not him playing the whining card." Changbin snorts, pulling Felix back onto the seat next to his.
"Did you expect anything else?" Seungmin yawns, half-draped over Jeongin on Chan’s bed. He’s already been told not to get close to the pillows, but he ignores the warning and grabs one to hug while actively invading Jeongin’s personal space.
Just like Seungmin, Jisung has become an expert at ignoring their friends’ comments. Even when they tease him about looking more subby than usual, Jisung shrugs it off and props up his middle finger, making everyone laugh. Even Hyunjin huffs out a laugh as he wraps his arm around Jisung’s middle to steady him— he’s already sitting on the very edge of his chair.
He almost retreats his arm when Jisung completely melts against him and the laughter thins out. Chan snorts, shaking his head, and Minho even raises a brow as his eyes move between the two of them.
He almost retreats his arm, but he can’t go through with it as he feels Jisung relax against him, like he’s found the safest place in the room. He’s exactly where he wants to be, and Hyunjin doesn’t have the heart to keep him at arm’s length.
“Has he been like this all night?” Jeongin asks, actually curious. He joined them just a moment before Jisung finished his third glass, so when he entered the room, Jisung was already sticking to Hyunjin’s side.
Felix hums in agreement, but none of them really replies, probably not knowing what to say. Hyunjin doesn't know either, he understands the way the others tilt their heads, their eyes tracking the way Jisung’s fingers curl into the fabric of Hyunjin’s hoodie, very likely noticing the way Hyunjin doesn’t look down at Jisung, but doesn’t pull back either.
It all feels like a quiet realization that something is unfolding, but no one is entirely sure whether they’re supposed to stop it or watch how far it goes.
So, no one is coming to save him, aren't they?
He can't tell whether he's concerned or not.
He gets dragged out of his own head a short second later, the ambiguity of his own feelings settling in his chest. Jisung raises his head, no longer hiding it in Hyunjin’s neck but pinning his chin on his shoulder instead. His forehead bumps against Hyunjin’s jaw, laughing quietly, like it’s only meant for Hyunjin, but the silence in the room makes it echo for everyone to hear. Both the laughter and the way he calls him again are softer than before, not even a trace of teasing or whining.
“Hyunjin-ah…” His breath is warm with intent against his cheek.
Hyunjin turns his face toward him this time, unable to ignore this call like he did the past ten to fifteen times. He’s lost count. But not only does he turn around like a thread attached to his cheek has been pulled with force, he also replies teasingly, his mouth working on autopilot while he wonders why the hell he’s entertaining this adorable drunk dummy.
“Oh… okay.” He clocks him immediately, realizing Jisung’s staring at his lips. “Hm… is that so?”
The room goes still, even the music seems to fade into a quieter background to their little moment. It’s like everyone around them senses something is about to happen, before Hyunjin has any certainty that something is, in fact, going to happen. He doesn’t know— he might be reading this wrong. He might be just about to push a hand flat against Jisung’s face and tell him to fuck off.
“Hyunjin…” Chan says, sounding like a warning more than anything else.
“Jisung, tone it down.” Minho says right after, while Seungmin chuckles in the back, entertained.
“Bet?” It sounds like Changbin, the groan that follows could be Jeongin.
Hyunjin can tell they’re being watched very closely, everyone involved in this thing almost as much as he is. Except they don’t have a pouting, blushing Jisung whispering their name an inch away from their lips—
“Hyunjin-ah…” Jisung breathes out, his eyes fixed on Hyunjin’s lips.
“Is that what you want?” Hyunjin asks right after, the logical and rational part of his brain leaving the room together with what’s left of his dignity, apparently.
Hyunjin tells himself he’s just humoring him until he passes out— he’s drunk enough to be very close to the moment he falls asleep out of nowhere. It’s a matter of time, and he’s just making sure he’s entertaining him for however much time is left before he can finally start breathing again.
But also, he’s curious enough to see how far it goes. How far Jisung is actually going to go— he always pulls stunts like this, but never actually goes through with it. He ends up rolling and laughing on the floor, a lovely sight, but he looks better up close now that Hyunjin has the opportunity to compare the two… situations.
Hyunjin’s train of thought, and flow of words, get abruptly interrupted by Jisung’s lips.
Right on his.
Right then and there, in front of everyone.
Hyunjin’s eyes widen, his hand opening flat on Jisung’s middle, not sure what to do— how to respond to that. He’s convinced this peck is going to last less than a heartbeat, that he just needs to sit still and let the moment pass.
But it doesn’t pass, and the more seconds Jisung spends on his lips, the more he wants him not to move away. Then Jisung opens his mouth, tilts his head, and slowly sucks on Hyunjin’s lower lip.
Hyunjin— he just loses it.
He blames it on the alcohol, on the heat his body is emanating, on the tiredness of the past years without a single breath of fresh air, on the lack of physical affection, on the need to feel something, on the need to make sure Jisung doesn’t feel rejected when he’s being so… upfront, so brave in taking exactly what he wants.
He can’t push him away, so he kisses him back.
Soon enough, the kiss turns messy and almost passionate. More collision than intention, quite the opposite of the starting peck. Jisung grabs the front of Hyunjin’s hoodie— all instinct and zero shame. Someone gasps close to them, and Jisung only pulls him closer, tongue slipping between Hyunjin’s lips like it’s something he’s done over and over again.
This never happened before.
Hyunjin complies for half a second too long, more than he probably should. He parts his lips, lets his friend have it, and then he realizes he should probably stop, because his friend is too drunk to be taking these kinds of decisions.
He halts it when he feels just about too close to helping deepen the kiss even further. His free hand, the one that’s not flattened against Jisung’s middle, reaches his jaw. He has to use all of his willpower not to let it slide behind Jisung’s head— he has to work hard to press his fingers against Jisung’s skin and move him away, creating space between the two of them.
Jisung pants with a stupid, sloppy, satisfied grin on his face. Hyunjin is literally a second away from a mental breakdown. But he’s not allowed to do that— he doesn’t even have time to: the room detonates around them.
“What the fuck?” Jeongin yells, Seungmin laughing hard next to him, but propped on the edge of the bed to get a better view.
Felix claps his hands a couple of times.
“That was something.” He adds after a beat, sounding more amused than shocked.
No one seems shocked besides Hyunjin— he has to look away from Jisung not to lose his cool. He’s already very close to it, and if Jisung keeps pouting at him, devastated that what they had has come to an end, he’s a hundred percent going to cave in again.
“Too much, even.” Changbin snorts, holding a glass of water in Hyunjin’s direction. He grabs it without a second thought— it could have been alcohol and he still would have accepted it just to keep his mouth busy.
“Shut up.” Jisung mutters, still melted against Hyunjin’s side. It clearly wasn’t enough for him, while Hyunjin has barely survived it.
“About that? Never!” Minho is quick to reply, shaking his head behind his glass.
“Oh, this is never dying.” Seungmin adds right away, wiping at his eyes, laughter still caught in his throat. “This is going to be mentioned at least once a month.”
“At least—” Changbin agrees immediately. He lifts his glass in Hyunjin’s direction, like a toast. “Every tour. Every winding-down party. Every time Jisung is going to pretend he doesn’t remember shit.”
“I don’t do that!” Jisung whines, indignant, still pressed close, clearly unconvinced the moment is actually over. Hyunjin’s starting to doubt that as well.
“Yes, you do,” Seungmin says, grinning. “But that’s okay, we will call you out right away!”
Felix hums, eyes bright like he just finished watching his favorite movie. “We should name it. Like a national holiday or something.”
Hyunjin exhales slowly, staring at the floor, heat still crawling under his skin. He’s so done for— both of them are, except Jisung has the drunk excuse, while he has barely had two glasses. He’s never going to hear the end of it, and he’s never going to be able to forget about it— not that he actually thinks that was an option anyway.
It’s a story now, one that’s going to be mentioned at every given, and not given, opportunity. He knows his members too well to believe they’ll have the decency to let it slide.
“You’re having too much fun.” Hyunjin scoffs, kicking Minho’s leg because he’s the only one he can reach without Jisung slipping off his shoulder.
“Blame us.” Felix chimes in. “I dare you.”
“Can’t believe I tried for eight years and the pouty bug did it in five minutes.” Changbin mutters, without a bite to his words.
“Apparently all you had to do was actively try.” Minho chuckles. “Like this— can I be next, Hyunjin-ah?”
"Fuck off."
Hyunjin groans, letting his head fall back. He has already had enough.
The laughter, the jokes, the poking at their egos fade eventually. Someone turns the music up again, louder than before, as if volume alone could smooth over what just happened. But the moment still lingers in the air, it’s just tucked in the back of the room, waiting to be brought up again eventually. Hyunjin can feel it’s still there.
But glasses clink, another bottle, a different one, gets passed around, and the night resumes almost like nothing ever happened. Almost like Hyunjin can actually ignore how he just made out with one of his best friends in front of his other best friends. Everyone is pretending it was just a contained incident, a moment already filed away and dealt with. Even Jisung seems to have already forgotten about it, so Hyunjin gaslights himself into thinking there’s nothing in the corner of the room, looming over him. That whatever line they crossed snapped back into place the second his hands left Jisung’s face.
So Hyunjin stays very still, letting Jisung remain pressed against him while he waits for his pulse to slow down and for the heat crawling under his skin to retreat.
Jisung makes it harder for him by shifting closer again, quietly this time, his weight settling against Hyunjin’s side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Right now it doesn’t feel like it, but it might as well be, considering how easily his body fits against his.
“Are you tired, Jisung-ie?” Chan asks softly, handing him the glass of water he had left alone. Again, he takes only a few sips, but this time because he misses his mouth completely and a waterfall happens on his sweater.
“He’s so out of it.” Felix mutters, jumping to his feet to help Jisung take off the sweater.
“I can keep it on—” Jisung protests weakly, because he truly is too far gone for his own good. But Felix doesn’t desist, and Hyunjin helps as well, making sure to detach the man from his side.
There’s suddenly this lack of warmth that hits him like a slow jab in his stomach, but he ignores it and just makes sure Jisung doesn’t lose his balance as Felix takes off his soaked sweater.
That’s just the first of a couple of incidents Jisung faces throughout the following hour. He ends up shirtless on the floor, because he’s suddenly very hot and feels the need to cry about it while pretending to make a snow angel on the carpet of Chan’s hotel room. Then, not even half an hour later, after Chan has helped him back onto the chair, and by proxy onto Hyunjin, he starts complaining about his bladder.
“Go to the bathroom?” Hyunjin tries, laughing under his breath when Jisung crosses his legs and wriggles on the chair. “It’s ten steps away.”
“I’m gonna hit the floor face first.” Jisung whines, exhaling in frustration.
“Gravity loves you so much, doesn’t it?” Minho jokes. “Someone, take him to the bathroom.” He orders right after, automatically taking himself out of the equation.
Unfair.
They are roommates. They live together. If there’s anyone who should help him to the bathroom, it’s the one he shares a bathroom with.
“I’m out.” Jeongin says immediately around a yawn; Seungmin follows suit with a tone that indicates he’s closer to dreamland than the real world. Someone is soon going to need to help him out of this room, unless Chan agrees to having a guest for the night.
“Let’s go.” Chan gets up from his chair, eyes clearly heavy with sleep but pushing through it. “Let’s get you dealt with.”
“No…” Jisung pouts, whining louder than earlier, shoulders shaking Chan’s hands off of them. “I’m tired.”
“So am I?” Chan snorts, frustrated. “Whatever, I don’t even care. Pee yourself. I’ll sleep in your room.”
“Gross.” Jisung mutters, but Hyunjin is the only one who hears him as laughter fills the room after Chan’s breakdown.
“I can take him against his will.” Changbin offers, already half up from his seat, stretching his arms like he’s about to haul dead weight— and he might be considering Jisung’s condition. “I’m strong. I lift.”
Jisung shakes his head immediately, a sharp little motion that nearly throws him off balance. Hyunjin reacts on instinct, his hand coming back to his side before he can think better of it.
“No—” Jisung says, firmer than expected. He blinks a few times before continuing. “I don’t want your help.”
Changbin pauses, offended but not even slightly surprised. “Oh… no, I get it.” He snickers, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention— even Seungmin's, who already has his eyes closed.
“He wants you.” He adds right after, pointing at Hyunjin.
“That’s bull—” Hyunjin starts, immediately regretting opening his mouth to begin with instead of just ignoring Changbin’s existence.
“The truth.” Changbin interrupts him, pointing between them. “Look at him.”
Jisung doesn’t argue, and everyone else just flatly agrees. Hyunjin can do very little to deny it or ignore his new duty. Jisung’s grip is already tightening again on Hyunjin’s sleeve, chin tipping up in a silent, unapologetic confirmation that their friend is actually right.
Hyunjin closes his eyes for half a second, then exhales and shifts forward.
“Okay.” He starts, already standing. “Let’s go to the bathroom before your bladder explodes.”
Jisung smiles sheepishly, like he’s won something but doesn’t have the energy to celebrate his victory. He slides off the chair with all the grace of a newborn deer and immediately leans back into Hyunjin’s side, holding his arm.
Hyunjin steadies him, just because he doesn’t want him to break his nose on the floor of the hotel room— even if it would be funny to witness. They just can’t afford an injured member when a few have already been complaining about their bodies.
When Hyunjin realizes the bathroom is smaller than he first thought, he wonders if it would have been such a tragedy to watch Jisung bump into furniture and trip on his own feet just to go take a wee.
He doesn’t understand why there’s barely enough space for two people when his bathroom could welcome the eight of them together, and he doesn’t like it. Jisung turns around and unzips his pants, and Hyunjin can clearly hear every sound, like he’s the one carrying out those actions. He wouldn’t be that unsteady, and he surely wouldn’t laugh at himself as he leans on the shower’s glass door for support.
Jisung is one of a kind. No one can handle alcohol so badly and be so easygoing about it. So carefree, laughing while peeing in your band mate’s bathroom while another one, the one you kissed just an hour before, is leaning against the counter way too few steps away from your naked ass. Hyunjin notices by mistake, and his eyes fly right back to his slippers in half a second.
“Are your feet pretty?” Jisung laughs, probably noticing Hyunjin’s behavior through the huge mirror. Everything is huge in that bathroom, everything but the distance between Jisung and Hyunjin.
“Prettier than your ass.” Hyunjin bites back, exhaling in frustration right after.
“Liar.” Jisung chuckles, buttoning up his pants again.
Hyunjin raises his eyes back to him the moment he hears the zipper go up. “I guess we’ll never know. Wash your hands.”
“I didn’t—”
“If you want to lean on me again, you need to wash your hands fucking thoroughly.” He points directly at the sink as he leans his side against the counter.
Jisung tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing while a grin spreads across his face.
“That’s one hell of a good point.” He mumbles, taking the few steps that lead him to the sink. He’s now hip to hip with Hyunjin, and the latter has nowhere to go— he could leave the room, but Jisung still looks pretty unstable.
Even when Jisung turns to his side, facing him, busy drying his hands on a towel he found on the counter, Hyunjin doesn’t move. Jisung looks at him, and he looks back— tired, ready to go to bed, to prepare for the complaining about the headache the following morning is going to bring.
The silence inside the bathroom is louder than his thoughts, and louder than the noise coming from outside, where the guys are still listening to music and using the last bits of their batteries to de-stress. It hits him all at once, together with the awareness that Jisung looks more focused now— still red ears, cheeks, and neck, still half-lidded eyes, but somehow looking more present than ever. He looks like he has a purpose. Just like back on the chairs.
“Hyunjin-ah…” Jisung calls him again, tilting his head to the other side. “Thank you for earlier.”
Hyunjin just hums back, not daring to ask what he’s referring to, but at the very same time not wanting to admit he knows exactly what he’s referring to.
“For letting me kiss you.” Jisung points out, clearly the braver out of the two of them. Or just the drunker. Both can be true at the same time.
“You’ve tried many times.” Hyunjin admits, trying to make the situation laughable and ease the tension a little bit— he can feel it rising faster under his skin. It’s not that he necessarily doesn’t like it, but he has a hunch about where it could lead.
“Let you have it when you were going to forget about it.”
“Never!” Jisung chuckles, shaking his head quickly. “Could never forget how soft your lips are. Pretty, and soft, and— damn, I want more.”
“It clearly wasn’t good enough to sober you up.” Hyunjin mumbles to himself, his eyes deciding on their own to move to Jisung’s lips.
“Are you sure you can take more?”
“Test me.” Jisung bites his lower lip, and suddenly the room starts to spin and the temperature rises. Again. “You know, just in case it works this time.”
Hyunjin inhales sharply, failing to keep his lips from twisting into a smirk.
“Jisung-ah…” He knows it’s not a good idea, but the closer Jisung inches, the further his worries float— about how Jisung is still pretty drunk, how he still drags his words, and how there are six people on the other side of the door waiting for them, who have already witnessed—
“Please?” Jisung mumbles.
That’s all it takes for Hyunjin’s hand to stop on its way toward the handle of the door and end on Jisung’s waist instead. A second later, their lips are pressed together once again. But it’s different this time, from the very start.
It’s soft, to the point Hyunjin’s heart flutters. It’s slower, intentional. Jisung kisses him like he’s sober enough to know exactly what he’s doing— and that he shouldn’t be doing it. Hyunjin kisses him the same way, like he’s ready to pull away at any time.
But then Jisung presses closer, hands wandering where they shouldn’t. Hyunjin feels them at his nape, slightly tugging at his hair, and his lips part immediately on their own. The kiss deepens more than he ever wanted it to, their bodies pressed together, also thanks to Hyunjin’s hands not being able to let go of Jisung’s waist.
There’s a peak of adrenaline in Hyunjin’s body when Jisung pants against his lips as he bites his lower lip, but it gets interrupted abruptly when someone knocks on the door.
“Fuck them.” Jisung whines, rolling his eyes when Hyunjin’s hands leave his waist.
Hyunjin doesn’t move away immediately. He shouts something about almost being done, then proceeds to look away from Jisung while trying to regain his composure. It takes him a moment, but at last he leaves the bathroom alone.
The fact that they don’t come back together is enough for everyone else to understand something happened. The air is tense in the room, despite the music still playing and Seungmin back to full action, jumping on the bed just to annoy Jeongin.
So maybe the air isn’t tense in the room— maybe it’s just him. The room quiets down to hear any complaint from him, in that not-so-subtle way where everyone stops talking at once without meaning to. Six pairs of eyes follow him, waiting for something, but he doesn’t say a thing. He just scans the room for his chair, still empty, and plops back onto it, exhausted.
Jisung appears a moment later, more settled, softer around the edges, a faint smile tugging at his mouth like he knows something the rest of them don’t. Like he got away with it.
“So?” Felix says eventually, breaking the silence first.
Hyunjin doesn’t answer, he looks at his slippers like they’re the most interesting part of his outfit. His knees bounce a couple of times before he can force them still. His heart is still doing that annoying thing, beating too fast for no good reason. He tells himself it’s the alcohol. The heat. The fact that he also likes men and Jisung is, objectively, very pretty. The fact that he’s been touch-starved for longer than he wants to admit.
The usual rundown of pathetic excuses he’s quite familiar with.
Except they’re totally reasonable explanations. Valid ones. Especially because his heart doesn’t beat any faster when Jisung sits right next to him again and places a hand on Hyunjin’s bouncing leg. He’d started again without realizing.
His presence just feels familiar, nothing more, nothing less, nothing inherently different than usual.
“So Hyunjin’s my favorite man out of all of you!” Jisung says suddenly, his voice cutting through the noise of the background music that’s still playing. He shrugs, like it’s obvious. “No one else made me happy when I asked. You’re all too greedy with your lips.”
Minho groans the moment Jisung is done. “How am I going to survive not being your favorite one?” He says, sounding clearly ironic.
Jisung doesn’t pick it up. “You can start with pancakes in the morning.”
“And end with a knife up your ass.” Changbin snorts.
“Why can I see that happening?” Jeongin snorts from the bed.
Seungmin laughs right next to him. “I’d love to say I’m sorry for Hyunjin, but I kinda like the idea of not being the target next time he gets drunk.”
“What do you mean next time?” Jisung gets up immediately. “I still have some of that fancy shit running in my system. Come here.”
“Stay the fuck away from me!”