Hangover fic, for those of us that know what it really feels like.
Title: Weakness
Character focus: Seung-ri
Rating: PG
Summary: Seung-ri feels weak
A/N: Part four of the Seven Emotions series :) which is, essentially, an attempt to inspire and spur myself into being creative on a daily basis... I always wish I had a fic to take me through my hangovers. So, I wrote one. Please enjoy!
As soon as his knees hit the floor, his stomach wrings itself inside out and pushes up his throat. The horrible sound of yesterday’s soju pouring into the toilet makes him gag even harder and he chokes around a sob before something that looks suspiciously like the remains of grilled meat and rice joins the sour puddle of alcohol at the bottom.
It’s disgusting.
Worst of all, it’s his own fault and he knows it. He doesn’t know when to stop. He is superman and nothing slows him down, there’s not a wall that he can’t run right through --- for the most part, he doesn’t even feel the alcohol until it slaps him right in the face and makes him its bitch. He doesn’t learn. He rests his head against the cool porcelain and tries to catch his breath. Distantly, he can hear a door squeak and then, the shuffle of feet.
“Seung-ri?”
Now he wants to kill himself. The feeling will pass, but when Young-bae’s hands touch over his shoulders and rub down his back, he really does want to kill himself. He can’t, of course, he doesn’t have the strength to, his hands could grasp a razor if his life depended on it --- that wasn’t funny, and as though the humiliation wasn’t complete already, Seung-ri starts to cry.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, trying to wipe at his face, “I didn’t mean to wake you, I wa---” He’s cut off by another stream of acid liquid forcing its way out of his mouth and everything spins, he falls forward and his head hits something hard - it hurts.
A second later, he feels a warm hand against his forehead, he’s being pulled up again. The second time he falls, he falls into Young-bae’s chest, hitting with a light thud and before he can stop himself, he rolls up into a little ball.
His breath must smell like two-year old kimchi.
Seung-ri isn’t a little kid. No, he most definitely isn’t, and Young-bae knows that, too, but Seung-ri doesn’t always think ahead and now last night is all a blur. It feels like a hundred horses ran over the back of his head and left their hoof prints there.
“I don’t remember how ---”
“Shh, it’s fine, you fell asleep in the car, Dae-sung carried you inside. You’re fine.”
Seung-ri’s skin feels cold and clammy, but at the same time his cheeks just want to burn right off. That’s just not okay. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, but Young-bae just smiles down at him, grabbing onto the hem of his own t-shirt and pulling it up to use it as a wash cloth, wiping vomit from Seung-ri’s chin.
“Did you have fun? You looked like you were having fun, you laughed a lot,” Young-bae speaks softly against the top of Seung-ri’s head, touching up and down his arms, soothing him.
Seung-ri looks at Young-bae’s soiled shirt. “Hyung, I ---”
“You got so handsy with Ji-yong, I think maybe you put him in his place for once,” Young-bae continues, still smiling, still warm. “But you weren’t rude, Seung-ri. You’re always sweet.” He holds Seung-ri at arm’s length, looking him over, making sure he’s okay.
Seung-ri is most definitely not okay. He’s shaking and shivering and everything hurts, his arm especially, he doesn’t know what happened to it. His scattered memories are all happy memories, but there’s nothing about his arm. It’s a stupid puzzle with too many odd pieces.
Young-bae grabs onto his face. “Stop freaking out, I told you everything is fine. You weren’t the only one drinking.”
“You didn---”
“Seung-hyun hyung and Ji-yong drank well enough for all of us, even you.”
“Oh.” Seung-ri doesn’t believe in anything in particular, but maybe there is a God after all.
When Young-bae pulls him into a hug, he doesn’t resist. His body falls to the side with the lack of strength and they lie together on the bathroom floor, tangled together. It’s quiet, and Seung-ri closes his eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Oh, come on, you know how I like taking care of you, it makes me feel needed,” Young-bae murmurs into Seung-ri’s shoulder, making himself comfortable.
Seung-ri’s heart finally starts to slow down, and he smiles.
End.
Character focus: Seung-ri
Rating: PG
Summary: Seung-ri feels weak
A/N: Part four of the Seven Emotions series :) which is, essentially, an attempt to inspire and spur myself into being creative on a daily basis... I always wish I had a fic to take me through my hangovers. So, I wrote one. Please enjoy!
As soon as his knees hit the floor, his stomach wrings itself inside out and pushes up his throat. The horrible sound of yesterday’s soju pouring into the toilet makes him gag even harder and he chokes around a sob before something that looks suspiciously like the remains of grilled meat and rice joins the sour puddle of alcohol at the bottom.
It’s disgusting.
Worst of all, it’s his own fault and he knows it. He doesn’t know when to stop. He is superman and nothing slows him down, there’s not a wall that he can’t run right through --- for the most part, he doesn’t even feel the alcohol until it slaps him right in the face and makes him its bitch. He doesn’t learn. He rests his head against the cool porcelain and tries to catch his breath. Distantly, he can hear a door squeak and then, the shuffle of feet.
“Seung-ri?”
Now he wants to kill himself. The feeling will pass, but when Young-bae’s hands touch over his shoulders and rub down his back, he really does want to kill himself. He can’t, of course, he doesn’t have the strength to, his hands could grasp a razor if his life depended on it --- that wasn’t funny, and as though the humiliation wasn’t complete already, Seung-ri starts to cry.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, trying to wipe at his face, “I didn’t mean to wake you, I wa---” He’s cut off by another stream of acid liquid forcing its way out of his mouth and everything spins, he falls forward and his head hits something hard - it hurts.
A second later, he feels a warm hand against his forehead, he’s being pulled up again. The second time he falls, he falls into Young-bae’s chest, hitting with a light thud and before he can stop himself, he rolls up into a little ball.
His breath must smell like two-year old kimchi.
Seung-ri isn’t a little kid. No, he most definitely isn’t, and Young-bae knows that, too, but Seung-ri doesn’t always think ahead and now last night is all a blur. It feels like a hundred horses ran over the back of his head and left their hoof prints there.
“I don’t remember how ---”
“Shh, it’s fine, you fell asleep in the car, Dae-sung carried you inside. You’re fine.”
Seung-ri’s skin feels cold and clammy, but at the same time his cheeks just want to burn right off. That’s just not okay. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, but Young-bae just smiles down at him, grabbing onto the hem of his own t-shirt and pulling it up to use it as a wash cloth, wiping vomit from Seung-ri’s chin.
“Did you have fun? You looked like you were having fun, you laughed a lot,” Young-bae speaks softly against the top of Seung-ri’s head, touching up and down his arms, soothing him.
Seung-ri looks at Young-bae’s soiled shirt. “Hyung, I ---”
“You got so handsy with Ji-yong, I think maybe you put him in his place for once,” Young-bae continues, still smiling, still warm. “But you weren’t rude, Seung-ri. You’re always sweet.” He holds Seung-ri at arm’s length, looking him over, making sure he’s okay.
Seung-ri is most definitely not okay. He’s shaking and shivering and everything hurts, his arm especially, he doesn’t know what happened to it. His scattered memories are all happy memories, but there’s nothing about his arm. It’s a stupid puzzle with too many odd pieces.
Young-bae grabs onto his face. “Stop freaking out, I told you everything is fine. You weren’t the only one drinking.”
“You didn---”
“Seung-hyun hyung and Ji-yong drank well enough for all of us, even you.”
“Oh.” Seung-ri doesn’t believe in anything in particular, but maybe there is a God after all.
When Young-bae pulls him into a hug, he doesn’t resist. His body falls to the side with the lack of strength and they lie together on the bathroom floor, tangled together. It’s quiet, and Seung-ri closes his eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Oh, come on, you know how I like taking care of you, it makes me feel needed,” Young-bae murmurs into Seung-ri’s shoulder, making himself comfortable.
Seung-ri’s heart finally starts to slow down, and he smiles.
End.