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Despite his protests, Namjoon still half-carries him inside his fraternity.

“I can walk— I swear I can walk.”

“Yeah yeah, I let you walk and you tripped over the sidewalk earlier, there’s no way I’m letting you walk upstairs alone.”

“I didn’t trip.” He drawls. “I fucking— I just— skipped—“

“Uhu.” Namjoon basically drags him up the stairs to his room, then finally lets go of his arm. “There we go.”

Jeongguk holds onto his doorpost, the room seems a little askew as he looks into it.

God, it’s such a mess. 

The curtains are closed, it smells like sweat, there’s a bunch of clothes all around his floor, he hasn’t made his bed, hasn’t done the laundry, empty cans on his desk, it just looks like a depression cave.

How fucking embarrassing.

“Sorry.” He brings out, kind of wants to close the door but Namjoon is already inside. “Uh— you can just—“

He can’t even finish his sentence, Namjoon is already picking up clothes from his floor, throwing them on the laundry pile.

“Don’t— please don’t, I promise I’ll clean—“ he hiccups. “You can just go.”

“I know.” Namjoon doesn’t stop however. “Just doing the light work, I know you can clean.”

Heat rushes up to his cheeks. Something about being incapable of basic cleaning is just humiliating, but he’s too nauseous to object more, world spinning so much, all the blood draining from his face.

“I— sorry— be right back.” 

He makes a run for the bathroom, makes it to the toilet just in time. It’s been a good while since he’s thrown up from alcohol, one of the worst feelings ever. 

“You okay?”Namjoon calls from behind him. “Need water?”

It’s really kind, something he has no idea how to deal with at this moment.

“I’m good— I’m good.” He pants, still hanging above the toilet. “Thanks.”

It’s about ten minutes later when he’s completely spent, brushed his teeth and drank a lot of water. He’s still a little wobbly on his feet when he returns to his room.

Kind of expected Namjoon to have left already, but he’s still there, putting the last of his cans into a trash bag. The entire floor is visible again, new sheets on his bed and everything, window open to air out the stuffy scent.

“Hey, you feeling better?” Namjoon asks, then nods around. “I did a little bit of cleaning, you just have to do your laundry tomorrow.” 

Jeongguk blinks once, twice. 

his cheeks are wet. 

oh great.

he’s crying.

that’s the fucking stupidest thing ever. 

Namjoon’s expression instantly changes, eyes a little wide.

“Oh dude— sorry, should I not have—“

“No, no— just.” He wipes the tears quickly. “Sorry— alcohol and.. just— thank you.”

“No yeah, absolutely, no worries.” Namjoon walks closer, pats his shoulder once. “Just wanted to help out a bit.”

Jeongguk nods, but for some reason it’s hard to stop the tears. It probably looks ridiculous, he feelsridiculous. Who even cries because of this?

“Are you okay?”

Namjoon asks then, voice a little softer this time around, gaze gentle.

For some reason that just restricts his throat even more, vision blurring with tears, and god he just can’t holdit. 

“Sorry—“ He rubs his eyes, but he’s fighting a losing battle here, it just gets worse by the second. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“That’s okay.” Namjoon chuckles softly. “Sometimes you just have to cry.” 

Jeongguk breathes in shakily, nods a few times. 

“Guess you’re just really impressed by my cleaning skills, huh?” Namjoon jests. “If I did your laundry you’d have bawled.”

That does elicit a chuckle out of him, it’s sort of choked on a sob but he appreciates the lightheartedness.

“Yeah— fuck, sorry.” 

He blinks hard to get rid of those tears. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Namjoon says again. “And you know you can talk to me right?”

Ah, fuck..

“Mm.” 

He bites his lower lip, afraid all of it might spill. Everything that’s been happening, everything involving Jimin. 

No one knows. And he’s never wanted anyone to know, but right now— if he just.. says it all right now, maybe something about it would finally make sense.