No Strings

(EXTRA) Part 11

**The following takes place after the events of No Strings. It was written as part of a follower milestone**

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"I'm just saying," Minsun says, spinning around on her stool. Taking a sip of her drink, she squints at the room. "If Namjoon were any klutzier, he would literally die."

Fighting a smile, you tap your hand to the counter. "Oh?" you say, accepting the drink pushed your way. "You know what I think? I think you're exaggerating."

"I'm not, though." Shaking her head, Minsun points a finger at the dance floor. "Look at him right now. He looks like a twelve-legged octopus taking a beginner's tap class."

"If he has twelve legs, he's not an octopus."

"Shut up, you get my point."

Hiding a smile, you nod because she is right – Namjoon truly does have dismal coordination. Right now, he is semi-drunk, waving both hands like one of those blow-up dolls at a car dealer. He slinks towards the center, fruity drink in one hand and hair pushed back from his forehead. Namjoon is a good-looking dude, intelligent and a catch for anyone to date – he also tends to be the most ridiculous human on the planet, without quite meaning to be.

Trying not to laugh, you return to Minsun. This week has been long, to say the least. You have been working on this giant presentation at work for a month now, one which went over well this morning – and prompted Namjoon and you to force your friends out in celebration. You have been at the bar drinking since 5:00 pm, although more of your friends have trickled in along the way, joining the revelry.

Seokjin arrived a half-hour ago; he is now seated beside you, two shots deep at the bar. He is partly to blame for Namjoon's current state of inebriation, having convinced him that being drunk makes him a better dancer, not worse. Hoseok is also here, but Hoseok – you roll your eyes at the sight – is a stupendous dancer and seems completely at ease out on the dance floor. His girlfriend, Vikki, must be around here somewhere. Normally, you would say she is with Katie but Namjoon and Katie broke up two months ago, a messy split which involved your co-worker's ex-boyfriend.

Wincing, you return the drink to your lips. Namjoon was devastated after, although it seems as though he is finally back in the swing of things. At least, he is trying – judging from the wavy sprinkler move he is attempting out on the dance floor.

Minsun snorts, draining the rest of her glass. "Okay," she says, hopping down from the counter. Adjusting her skirt, she winces at the motion – the fabric is bright magenta, shorter than yours. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Wait here, hold my purse."

Minsun disappears, flouncing away and you swivel your hips at the bar, returning to nursing your drink. Music thumps through the air, raucous and loud enough to drown out the voices around you – or, almost loud enough.

"Hey there," a guy says, sliding onto Minsun's vacated stool.

You glance up from your drink. A new wave of people has entered and it is a struggle to remain on your chair with everyone crowding so close. The stranger is cute, speaking mathematically. He has full lips, a broad forehead and the type of hair which seems perpetually stuck-up in the back. Beyond that though, your generosity ends.

The way he stares at you is calculated, as though he has a dating playbook and is eighty percent sure – if he says and does the right thing – you will be fucking him by morning. There is something to his gaze, his smile; this man thinks he damn well owns this room and you would be lucky to have him.

It is hard for you not to roll your eyes, taking a sip of your drink.

The guy leans forward. "I'm sorry," he says, placing a hand on your arm. His touch is light, not overly forceful – he has done this before, and often.