Chapter Text
Soft rays of sunlight peeked through the gaps between velvet curtains and birds whistled happily. The otherwise pleasant morning was disturbed only by the writhing figure on the bed.
Whys and whines came from underneath the white sheets, only beginning to get louder as memories from the previous night came crashing down.
Chuuya pulled down the blanket revealing his flushed and hungover face. His eyes were glued to the ceiling as the collision with reality almost literally left him frozen in time. Was he really not dreaming? Wasn't this all just a lie? For the nth time, he reread Hirotsu's last text.
You should thank Y/N for being very patient with you last night.
He groaned. It wasn't a dream after all. How the fuck will he be able to face you after that?
Nothing beats an entire night of drinking after a difficult mission was successfully completed. Chuuya brought out his better selection of vintages for the occasion and was happily drinking away with his usual guardian company: Hirotsu.
“Bartender, a glass of water for the young man please.”
“Hey, I’m n-not drunk yet.”
The older man rolled his eyes at the redhead’s slurred comment. It’s no secret that he often drank alcohol beyond the amount his body could handle, and tonight was no exception. In fact, not an hour had passed since they sat in the bar but he was already heavily intoxicated. Thankfully though, he was in a pleasant mood – something that was rare for a drunk Chuuya.
Hirotsu lit another cigarette as he let himself relax a bit. There were only a few other people in the room, mostly low-ranking members who were already familiar with the executive’s tendencies. Yet something in him told him that it would not be quite the relaxing night one may assume from the setup.
True enough, you showed up.
“Hirotsu-san! What a surprise to see you here,” you grinned. “Came to unwind after a long week?”
“I suppose you could say that.” Internally, he had hoped you would leave as quickly as you came. It’s not that he disliked you or anything – quite the opposite in fact – but he just knew that you staying any longer would spell trouble for Chuuya and indirectly to Hirotsu himself. If you only had any idea how much effort it took to keep your image of the younger man intact-
Said man was already hunched on the table, face flat on the surface. Hirotsu only hoped he had already passed out.
“Oh? Is that Chuuya-san?”
Only a small grunt was heard as his head turned slightly.
“...is he always like this?”
No amount of deflection can save him now. “Not always, but frequently. Too frequently.”
The two of you began to make casual conversation about exploits here and there, work related or not. It was a bit embarrassing on Chuuya’s end to be treated as some sort of deadweight between two people chatting away, but at least he wouldn’t have made a fool of himself, Hirotsu thought.
Unfortunately, he spoke too soon.
“Why’re-“ Chuuya struggled to maintain a sober tone. “Why’re ya here, Y/N?”
“To relax, of course. But I’m glad to meet you here. I rarely see you, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah. I miss you too.” He took another sip of wine – well, gulp is perhaps more accurate. His reply caught you off-guard, but you tried not to think of it much since you knew he was beyond drunk.
“Don’t you miss me, Y/N?”
“Wha- I mean, I g-guess I do...”
He chuckled. “That’s good.”
The way he spoke was so different from what you were used to. His voice was much lower and his tongue rolled off so smoothly. It was strange and you knew full well that it was the alcohol talking.
You shot a glance at Hirotsu who simply shrugged.
Without hesitation Chuuya began to pour another glass of wine and drank it all in one go in spite of the older man’s effort to stop him.
“Ahh, that *hic* hit the spot.”
Again he filled his glass with more wine, drank it, and filled his glass once more. You were beyond worried for both his brain and his liver with the amount he was drinking. Will he be alright?
They say there are several types of drunk people. Regardless of whatever method of categorization you may think of, it was only on that night that you witnessed that Chuuya was all of those combined in one single drinking session.
For example, the angry drunk.
“Burn in hell, mackerel!”
Flirty drunk.
“Have I ever told you that you’re smokin’ hot?”
Sad drunk.
“Y-you won’t leave me, right, Y/N?”
Happy drunk.
“Saranghae, baby~”
And last but not the least, “sober” drunk.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” His head was resting on your chest. At that point he was already beyond salvation and didn’t even have the strength to sit up, so you did your best to make sure he didn’t collapse onto the floor.
“It’s okay. Please drink some water, at least.”
“I know this is stupid but-“ Chuuya attempted to raise his head to meet your eyes, but the alcohol forbade him from trying. You gently readjusted him in spite of the difficulty in balancing him. His body was just so limp.
“I like you, Y/N. A lot. For too long – way too long.”
Your eyes widened. Those were words you’ve been wanting to hear from him, but you didn’t expect it to be like this. “Y-you’re just drunk. Please drink some water.“
“I’m drunk, yeah, but I’m no liar.”
His voice was softer than it had ever been. His face was still buried in your chest but you could still imagine the sincerity in his eyes. Was he really...?
“So hard- it’s been so hard to hide it.” He laughed to himself in a pitiful manner. “Why did I have to... like this... you deserve more than that-“
He quickly passed out after that.
Now that the Chuuya of the current time has caught up to the last memory of the night, mistakes all so painfully apparent and undeniable, the desire to somewhat rectify the situation brought him out of bed.
The alcohol and embarrassment still stung, but just couldn’t stay still.
If only he woke up without remembering anything at all, this might have been less agonizing. But then that would mean he wouldn’t be able to know just exactly what reckless shit he did to you (you might not have ever told him even if he asked) and apologize properly for it.
Of course, he’d confess to you properly too.
Not now, though. A hungover confession isn’t that much better than a drunk one, but at least he could prepare everything he wished to say to you.
All that was left was to wait.