No Strings

Part 1

"That's it," you grumble, flopping down on the bed. "That's the last time I text him."

Jimin snorts, not looking up from his computer. His roommate, Seokjin, is vacuuming the main room, so the two of you were shooed in here. Not that it matters, really – Jimin has the better TV, so most of the time you end up in here anyways.

Jimin's fingers move over the keyboard, frantically battling robots, or starships, or whatever. You honestly have no idea what game he is playing.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he says, eyes narrowed at the screen.

Glaring, you kick him from your side of the bed. "Rude. I mean it this time!"

Jimin swats your foot away, laughing. "Yeah, I've also heard that one before."

When he snickers, you frown, staring at the still-open conversation in your phone. Calling it a conversation would be a stretch, considering the last two texts exchanged were both you saying hello.

Sighing deeply, you slump against Jimin's pillows. Propping your feet up on his baseboard, you frown unhappily.

"Maybe it's just me," you say. "Maybe I'm the one who's completely un-datable."

"Don't be stupid."

"Maybe that's it." Dramatically, you sigh. "Maybe I'm too smart – I hear guys like dumb girls."

Jimin groans – although whether this is at you or his game, you are unsure. "That's not it," he says, mumbling at the screen. "Those guys are just assholes, Y/N. You always go for assholes."

"Takes one to know one, I guess."

When Jimin gives you an expression of mock-outrage, you grin. You two have been friends ever since college – dating way back to when Seokjin got together with your roommate at the club and left the two of you stranded. Jimin entertained you for a while before going home with someone else.

That night was pretty insulting, actually. You cannot deny you were into him when you first met. It would have been hard not to be, what with his dark hair, winning smile and gods, his body. You would even go so far as to say the two of you hit it off, conversation flowing easily and banter being exchanged. Until, of course, Jimin suddenly picked up some other chick from the other side of the bar.

After getting over that initial hurt, you realized you and Jimin could be friends. The two of you have a lot in common, minus Park Jimin being a wild-ass playboy. He goes out with a lot of girls, sleeps with a lot of girls and then never calls a lot of girls. You were the one constant in his phone, but that was only because you both firmly agreed to boundaries.

Now, Jimin looks at you, mildly offended. "Hey," he protests. "I'm honest, at least. I never pretend to be interested in anything but sex. If girls want more – hey, not my problem."

"Oh, god," you say, rolling your eyes. "Please be a little less humble."

Jimin grins. "I can try. That's the one thing I'm not good at, though."

You cannot help it, you laugh. Settling back on his bed, you resume staring at your phone. "I can't help but wonder..." Shaking your head, you cut yourself off. "Never mind."

"What?" Jimin continues playing his game. "You can't help but wonder what?"

The back of your neck heats with embarrassment. "I can't help but wonder if maybe I'm... bad."

The words come out rushed and for a second, you do not think Jimin has heard. But then his thumbs stutter on the keyboard and slowly, Jimin lifts his head. "Why would you say that?"