#yoonamjin

“pass, joonie.”

“ah, shit, sorry -- here you go.”

“hmm.” inhale, exhale. “a kilt, huh? i’d say you have the legs for it.”

namjoon giggles. “i’d say yoongi-hyung has the legs for it.”

yoongi cracks an eye open and shoots a half-hearted glare at namjoon. “yah.”

namjoon puts his hands up in defeat, flashing a grin at seokjin as he takes another hit off their second blunt of the afternoon. “i’m just kidding, hyung.”

“pfffffth, no you’re not.” smoke curls out of seokjin’s mouth as he speaks, eyes glittering with contained mirth as he offers the blunt in yoongi’s direction. “admit it yoongi-yah, you definitely have the legs and the adorable knobby knees to pull a kilt off.”

yoongi waves away the offer and seokjin shrugs, passing it back to namjoon who takes it with a contented hum. yoongi has more to say on the subject, words on the tip of his tongue, but his brain feels delightfully fuzzy and his limbs are heavy and it’ll take just a little too much effort for him to get a full sentence out so he doesn’t even bother. he just lets his one eye slide back closed as he floats in a general state of bliss, sinking into the couch cushions.

he doesn’t know how much time has passed when a thought floats up into his head. a thought about a hidden little something in the back of the sock drawer, a thought that gets twisted around the idea of a kilt. it seems like years before he can work the thought out into a full sentence (though it’s probably only been 2 minutes, fucking weed brain), and he just lets it flop out of his mouth like a dead fish.

“bet that jockstrap would feel nice under a skirt.”