Work Text:
Woojin watches with a dark pit in his stomach. He knows that Gunwoo doesn't drink, his friend said it the first day they met and since then, he hasn't seen him drink one drop. Of course, Gunwoo also said it's because of his training, but Woojin remembers that he himself had actually put that assumption out there and Gunwoo had just taken that with a nod. Because of course he did, they had barely known each other then.
He also remembers their celebration, high on the tide of winning, thinking they were so close to actually putting Myeonggil down for good, getting drunk while Gunwoo still didn't drink anything but water. (He remembers being hungover, while fighting for his life, the echo of desperate gun shots from below and the sickening sound, the stench, the agony of being stabbed.)
(He remembers overhearing Aunty Yoon asking worriedly if Gunwoo had had any alcohol.)
He doesn't know why and he is now realizing too late he should have asked, because Gunwoo is being forced to drink, for a chance at reaching their goal. Their revenge.
Woojin watches as Gunwoo drinks glass after glass of high end whiskey like it's water and the pit in his stomach grows. The other two are drinking too, of course, already showing signs of being drunk, but it is still too much, too fast.
Gunwoo doesn't seem very affected by the alcohol, but the stuff is 50 proof, that sneaks up on you. Especially when you're drinking it this fast and don't normally drink.
The other two, the police officer and the lil Group Chaebol, are rambling now, on and on, happy and sad and angry and resigned. Woojin listens to the police officer's woes and Gunwoo is now a little tilted, his speech slightly slurry as he listens to the Chaebols sorrows.
They're invited to the Chaebol's apartment to continue drinking and they accept, of course they do. Gunwoo leaves for the bathroom first, but quickly returns and they go.
Later, after not that much more alcohol, because all three of them had about a whole bottle each, and their hosts kept nodding off. They help their hosts into their beds and go to the guest room, they had been shown to, for the night.
It has its own bathroom, because of course it does and Gunwoo insists to at least brush his teeth before bed, because of course he does.
As soon as they're done and the door closes behind them, Gunwoo sinks onto the bed and Woojin worriedly goes over, grabbing his wrist, then letting go.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Mh?" Gunwoo's head lolls to the side and Woojin catches it, so his friend doesn't hurt himself. A broad grin spreads across Gunwoo's face as he looks up at Woojin standing before him. "I loved your curls." A very matter of fact statement. Woojin is a little bit stunned, the fingers of his free hand going to his new, short haircut a little self-consciously.
"I love the short hair too." Is the next sentence, face earnest. Clumsy fingers try to reach for him and he huffs a laugh, the worry slowly dissipating.
"Yeah?" Woojin asks, tone teasing. "What else do you love about me?"
Quick as a snake, he finds himself pulled and then his face is held between warm, strong hands, gaze forced to connect with a slightly glassy, but no less fierce gaze. His hands, no longer needed, fall to his sides.
"I love that you live." A punch would have as effectively robbed his breath. "I love that you stayed after knowing me for all of three days." Shit, he shouldn't have asked. He knows Gunwoo is so … so earnest, so honest, it's horrible. He tries to pull back, but his friend's grip is strong. He opens his mouth to derail the other things that are surely coming, because he asked and drunk Gunwoo will absolutely answer thoroughly, when sober Gunwoo would have stopped.
He is not fast enough.
"I love that you can lift me off my feet." An almost whispered statement that falls between them and Woojin closes his mouth. The hands fall to his shoulders, thumbs going back and forth across the skin of his neck and throat. "I love the way your hands spread across my back when you hug me."
He should lean back. Escape these hands.
Escape these words.
He doesn't.
"I love waking up next to you every morning."
Woojin thinks his heart might be starting to drown out the words that keep falling from Gunwoo's lips and he can't move to stop them. He's frozen like a rabbit in front of a predator.
Dark eyes, glowing with determination, fall from his gaze to his mouth.
"I love the thought of your lips on mine." Dark eyes look back up to his own.
"I love yo-"
Woojin kneels on the bed, knees on either side of Gunwoo's hips, and kisses him. A press of lips against lips. It feels so natural, like they always should have done this. The hint of mint and alcohol on Gunwoo’s breath make him lean back, strong fingers grasping his neck trying to stop him.
"You're drunk." His own hands are grasping Gunwoo's face, holding him there until the man pouts. He's so fucking cute.
"Not that much. I puked up most of it at the bar." Gunwoo sulks and admits and Woojin sighs a breath of relief. It explains why Gunwoo is still even comprehensive.
"Still. Tomorrow, okay?" Woojin coaxes, brushing another kiss against pouting lips, trying to resist the urge, when sneaky teeth nip at his lower lip. Gunwoo whines when he pulls back and Woojin's pounding heart swells, but he has to resist. "Tomorrow."
"Hyung." The word is like an electric pulse racing along his skin and Woojin groans.
"You're not playing fair."
"I don't want to play fair, I want you to kiss me again." He turns his head and brushes a kiss against Woojin's palm. "Hyung, please."
Woojin traces the shape of his lips with his thumb, heart skipping in his chest. Gunwoo is really too pretty.
“Tomorrow.”
“Ugh.” Gunwoo sighs and falls back on the bed like a sulky teenager, proving Woojin right with his insistence to wait for the morning. It’s cute, though.
-+-
Woojin opens his eyes to bright sunshine, squinting into the glare, knowing it is way too early, but later than their usual time. His eyes adjust and he finds himself face to face with Gunwoo, who looks at him with clear, attentive eyes.
“Morning.” Woojin mumbles. How is he even a morning person after so much alcohol last night? He doesn’t even have the decency to look hungover. Woojin didn’t drink anything but water last night and he isn’t as awake as Gunwoo.
“Good morning, Hyung.” There is a moment of silence and Woojin has no idea what to say, where do they pick up from last night? “Did you mean tomorrow tomorrow, or after we sleep tomorrow, because technically it was after midnight when you said it and-”
Woojin shuts him up with a kiss. He finds himself pressed into his pillow, which is just insanely fluffy, and Gunwoo leaning above him, the predatory gesture losing all dangerous intent with the broad smile shining down on him. He leans up and they brush lips, Gunwoo following him back down. He nips at Woojin’s lips once, twice, until Woojin can’t help but make a sound and then he finds himself being devoured.
It is insane. He had teased Gunwoo so many times, that he is too good at too many things, he had not thought kissing to be one of them, but he is proven wrong once again. Everything tingles and pulses, their tongues entwined, fingers grasping. It’s wonderful. They should do this forever.
Of course, this is the moment his stomach decides to growl, causing Gunwoo to pull back and look at him with a warm, amused gaze.
“Let’s cook some ramen. Minbeon and Gangyong should wake up by the time it is ready.” He slides out of the bed in his usual efficient way and Woojin hates him for it. He reaches out after him, his own pout forming on his lips.
“Nooo, come baaack…”, he whines, but Gunwoo just laughs, and it’s unfair that his heart still skips every time he does.
“Food first. Come on, Hyung.” Which is a lie, they both know that they will be busy for a while after breakfast. They’ll be living on stolen moments until this whole mess is done.
Woojin falls back into his unfairly fluffy pillow with a sigh, while he listens to Gunwoo washing up in the bathroom and getting dressed.
He liked drunk Gunwoo more.
-+-
The End