Chapter Text
January 1st.
[00 00 - 12 a.m.]
The countdown finally reaches zero, and everyone cheers rather loudly for something as miniscule. But, one year has closed off, and another one has begun. The earth completed it's 365-day marathon - should be a perfectly sane reason to celebrate right?
("I don't know, man. We really do be celebrating anything," Mingyu slurs sadly over his third beer, and Jihoon just shrugs from next to him.
"Look at how miserable our existence is. At this point, a babies first burp is a reason to celebrate. Nothing else to celebrate in life."
Everyone agrees. And because everyone agrees, they all go back to celebrating the New Year, no matter how fast their New Mes will die in the upcoming days.)
The cheers die down quickly, as everyone now immediately turn to approach the face of their lovers, to have their lips sealed as the first act of their new year. Some of them share their first new year's kiss, while some celebrate a year, or years of their streak of new year's kisses.
It's sappy, it's mushy, it's gross, but no one's complaining about their twee little selves.
Not even the two single ones are safe from this disgustingly sweet fate.
They're as cheesy as all of their surrounding friends. Maybe if not more, because their kiss holds more weight. More angst, more passion.
One of Chan's hands grips the counter for support, the other resting on Hansol's shoulder. The marble counter is cold against his back, but he does not care. The brightly coloured fireworks shine over their frames, yet their eyes remain shut, eyelashes touching as they cherish the moment. Their surroundings are the least of their concerns.
The only thoughts in their heads are of the kiss.
Though, it's far from perfect.
Hansol tastes nothing but soju off of Chan's lips, but he doesn't mind. He's drunk out of his head. He does not care.
Chan's little sober voice trapped at the back of his head feels disgusted when saliva runs down his chin due to how sloppy the kiss was. Yet his drunk braincells overpower the voice, and he continues giving his all to the kiss.
It's far from perfect, but it's perfect. They love it. Maybe not the circumstances, but the kiss is flawless to them. Hansol is the best a man can get for Chan, and Chan is the most ethereal one can be for Hansol.
The two finally part ways with an exaggerated smooch, and they open their eyes in sync, staring at each other in a haze. Like they're looking at each other from afar. Their souls have been lost.
Chan is the first one to break off eye contact, curious and distracted by the view of the curtain wall overlooking the city and the fireworks, but Hansol remains still.
Hansol realises how lucky he is as he continues staring deep into those beautiful, cat-like eyes closely, noticing how those mesmerised eyes dance in between different colours as more fireworks erupt in the sky.
He's so lucky to have kissed Chan silly, because there's no way he could've ever done that sober. Not when he's so madly in love that even one move towards Chan can make him overthink. It feels good, being drunk. He likes freely admiring his crush's face with no thoughts of how obvious he's being stabbing inside his head. He wishes he could experience this state more.
"I love you," Hansol whispers. It's easy to say. When his mind is in another dimension, chanting the same name over and over again, his dazed self can say the one thing his sober self could only scream internally.
He knows his sober self will have to face it tomorrow. There's no way he's letting go of this and avoiding Chan. Not when it feels so right.
Chan looks back, mouth open in surprise. Slowly, his lips seal and curve into a satisfied smile, eyes sparkling with joy.
He lifts his hand to cup Hansol's face, touching his forehead against his, eyes fluttering shut, his thumb comfortingly rubbing patterns against his cheek.
"I love you too," Chan replies, and a deal is made.
They kiss again.
It's easy right then.
They can kiss over and over again, they can kiss in front of their friends who exaggerate their disgust, they can go wild enough to even kiss each other on the neck, and maybe one of the two ends up getting dared to create a hickey, and oh?
"Are we playing truth and dare, now?!" Soonyoung squeals, and everyone is distracted again, including Hansol and Chan.
Not like they didn't just create evidence of their make-out session.
Not like they didn't just completely change the trajectory of their years-long friendship.
No drunk mind has the time to worry of that.
Everyone soon passes out, and the one (and only) unofficial pair remains linked together, knocked out on the carpet, sleeping frames awaiting the consequences of their inebriated actions.
-
[11 24 (a.m.)]
When morning arrives, Chan can only groan in pain.
His mind throbs inside his skull, his eyes feel like they'll pop out of his head, his tongue is dry like a wad of cotton, and his lips are flaky and swollen. He feels like his body was stabbed in multiple spots, his vision is black, and he can't breathe in properly.
Wait.
Why... exactly can't he breathe properly?
Chan shuffles, only to realise the situation. His face is mushed into someone's body, making it hard to breathe. He can feel his lungs knock against his ribs.
He tries to move, but the hand is heavy on his head, and by the rise and fall of the mystery person's chest, Chan can only assume the man is in the deepest level of slumber. He'll have to wiggle his way out.
Slowly moving his head side to side, Chan manages to shimmy his head upwards, and he can't help but blush slightly when his lips graze against the person's chest.
'Focus, Chan, focus!! You're a man on a mission.'
And that - he certainly is. He has two priorities right now: get air in his lungs, and maybe identify who he's sleeping this closely to.
The smell of beer mixed with a hint of a familiar scent of musky perfume can also answer the question of who this person is, but Chan is too caught up in his head to entertain that little thought.
With a swift move, he finally manages to rise with his left arm taking support of the floor, breathing in a gulp of air for his thirsty lungs, the heavy hand dropping onto his back.
Chan blinks, slowly adjusting his sight, before focusing it on the face of the mystery person.
"Oh my fucking god," Chan can hear his grandma screaming angrily at him for taking god's name in vain in the depths of his brain, but now is not the time. A man in crisis will definitely disrespect some deity. Chan's sure she'll understand. If she woke up all tangled up with her crush, she'd probably do the same thing. Probably.
He scopes his environment, and he realises that he just woke up on the crusty ass carpet of Minghao's apartment, he's been sleeping for the past how many hours on Hansol's bicep (he probably numbed that poor arm), and his right leg is comfortably curled over and around Hansol's legs. Much like he does with his seventy-hundred pillows.
He gasps out loud when he realises their very touchy position, and he just hopes the two passed out on the floor, because Chan's little chimpanzee memory can not come up with answers at that moment.
As he slowly rises his body, Hansol's limp arm on his waist now, his leg uncurling itself from the body, the loss of body heat in the cold January winter makes Hansol stir.
Chan bites his lip. Damn it.
The first sight Hansol sees after waking up for a sober New Year, is a sleep kissed Chan hovering over his face (what), a hand next to the cushion on which Hansol slept on (oh?), and Chan's leg up in the air (why?). Chan's face is painted in panic, eyes wide, lips parting, but one thing Hansol can't process all too well, is the small purple blotch sitting on the left part of Chan's neck.
Oh, good Lord.
This is bad.
May Drunk Hansol and his raggedy decision making skills be damned.
Hansol sits up immediately, and Chan swiftly adjusts his position too, the two staring at each other in awkward shock with no words spoken between them.
That is, until Jisoo groans softly from the sofa in the room, and Chan is the first one who breaks eye contact to glance at the source of the sound.
He looks around the area, and everything is a mess, for sure. Or... a mess is an understatement. Minghao will definitely throw a tantrum over this. For now though, everyone is scattered like the stiff mannequins with free will and bad decision making skills they are.
There are three large sofas in the big living room that are there to accommodate their giant friend group (it still only fits nine people), and five people are sleeping on said sofas - minus the awake Jisoo who is now sitting up very confused on Mingyu's lap, the man under him still knocked out.
Jihoon and Seokmin are sprawled out on the coffee table, Seokmin's feet hanging off dangerously near Junhui's face, who is sleeping under said coffee table.
Seungkwan is straddling the backrest of the one sofa that is not against the wall, his face smooshed into one of the corners, and Wonwoo, who is sleeping in a sitting position, is hugging Seungkwan's leg like a teddy bear (and probably keeping him from falling).
Seungcheol is the final person who is sleeping on the sofa, half his body hanging off the cushions, and Soonyoung lays at the foot of the sofa, face full of Sharpie penises. Well, looks like they know who fell asleep first.
Minghao and Jeonghan are sprawled on the bean bags in another corner of the room, Jeonghan loudly snoring as Minghao's foot rests on his friend's chest.
Every single position in which his friends have been sleeping makes Chan worry for their necks and backs (Chan for sure knows his spine is going to be his greatest enemy for the day), and the amount of alcohol bottles and crates scattered all over the apartment really sheds light on how much the group drank last night. He also wonders what the fuck everyone was doing after midnight, because there are literally zero couples (or throuples) that are sleeping near or on one another.
Well, if you don't count him and Hansol, who were snug close to each other. But... they're not really together, either. God knows what they were up to last night.
Chan closes his eyes as another sting runs through his head. He really needs some Advil. And an Uber. And a plane ticket. He needs to get himself out of here.
Hansol clears his throat, Chan's eyes fluttering open once again, blinking a few times to get rid of the blurriness around the edges of his sight.
"Uhh, do you, uhm, know what happened last night?" Hansol whispers, finger pointing between the two of them.
Chan shakes his head, groaning at how it makes his headache spike.
"Hyung, I really don't know what went on last night, but it was probably nothing, I suppose. We're all just blacked out."
Hansol bites the inside of his cheek. It can not be nothing. Chan can't get a hickey from nothing.
The older between the two just hums in agreement, instead turning around to observe the room, too. And maybe contemplate his next move.
Chan slowly gets up, the world spinning and joints cracking as he gets up with support of the sofa.
Jisoo stands up too, holding Chan's arm to balance himself.
"Let's go brush our teeth."
Chan nods. Jisoo seems less hungover between everyone, but he wasn't much of a drinker either. He does look like a mess, though. His eyes are bloodshot, face a little swollen, voice gone down to the pits of hell.
Hansol just gestures the two to go on, getting up and pacing around the room.
The other two grab their toothbrushes from their bags piled all over the entrance (of course twelve bags full of a week's worth of clothes for each person will make a coat rack collapse), and go brush their teeth side by side.
The sink is small for the two of them, but it's better than to sit idle with a horrid hungover.
Chan doesn't focus on his sorry reflection too much, until a flash of purple makes him look up in surprise, mouth wide open.
The foam spills from his mouth onto his shirt, making Jisoo groan in disgust from next to him and smack the back of his head, but Chan's eyes are fixed.
"Whar. Tha. Fuh." Chan slurs through the toothpaste in his mouth, spitting it out into the sink quickly before going back to inspect his neck, tilting his head to put the hickey right into display.
Jisoo just looks at him from the side in disgust, a little confused as he continues to aggressively brush his teeth.
After a minute of inspection, he spits it out too, running the tap water to wash his face.
"Chan. Don't tell me you forgot. You and Hansol were attached to the hip last night. I think we even made some dare about who would be the braver one and give a hickey to the other between the two of you."
Chan presses his lips into a thin line to suppress a terrified scream, eyes wide, eyebrows taking the elevator up his forehead.
Aw, fucking hell, man.
Jisoo can't help but sigh out of pity, patting him on the back.
"I'm sorry both of you had to experience your first few kisses - and don't worry, it wasn't much beyond that - this way. But, please talk to each other, neither of you deserve to be put in a 'situationship', whatever the hell that is. Make things clear."
First few?!?!?!
Chan just nods, Jisoo smiling and giving him a small side hug before he leaves the washroom.
"I'm gonna make breakfast, you wanna join?"
Chan just hums, still rooted to the spot, head lost in the clouds.
The washroom door is wide open after Jisoo's exit, and the reflection the mirror next to the door shows Hansol approaching him from the hallway.
Shit.
His hand instinctively raises to cover the hickey, but Chan knows it's too late. He turns around, hand holding on to the sink for moral support.
"Hansol-hyung, about last night... I-"
"I like you."
Chan blinks.
Wait.
He WHAT?
He opens his mouth and then closes it.
He's unsure if he heard that right. Or heard that at all. Auditory hallucinations are a real concern, after al-
"Chan. I, Choi Hansol. Likes you. A lot."
Hansol let it out. He said it. No turning back.
When he was walking around the living room, he realised that he does not want to dance around his feelings any more. He's sure of it. Even if whatever went on during midnight was not special to Chan, it was to him. It can't be a secret.
It's a good sign for Hansol when Chan slowly smiles.
"Hansol. I... Me too. I like you a lot too."
Hansol grins, teeth full on display, and Chan has only seen him smile that bright when Seokmin, Soonyoung or Seungkwan made a stupid joke right up his alley.
It feels good to be the subject of that smile for once.
"I've liked you for a long time now," Chan admits with a small laugh, and the sudden awareness of his burning cheeks makes him feel even more embarrassed.
Imagine confessing to your crush in a washroom, toothpaste remnants on your mouth, toothbrush in hand, and looking like a complete mess.
Chan is one lucky dude to have his feelings reciprocated.
"Me too. I really didn't want us to be left hanging like that. I can only remember flashes of what happened last night, but I can't just imagine it just being a one time thing. Chan..."
Chan immediately steps outside the washroom when Hansol opens his arms wide for a hug. He wraps his arms around the taller one, and feels as the minimal tension melts away, and Chan hums softly.
This is the most anti-climactic love confession he will ever do, but he sure as hell is thankful for it.
He may not remember what happened last night, but he sure as hell doesn't regret it anymore.
"Chan... would you want to go on a date with me sometime?"
Chan nods, chin bumping Hansol's shoulder.
"Yes please."
Hansol pecks Chan's cheek, and the two finally break the hug apart.
Their hands remain linked, and the pair just stare, smiling. Even if one of their linked pair of hands contains a toothbrush, they could not care less.
They may be hungover freaks, but they're hungover freaks in love.
Which makes them even bigger freaks.
They look horrible in any other context, hair up in all directions, faces pale, clothes ruffled, but right now, they looked perfect.
They don't even snap out of their little staring daze when a Soonyoung carried on Seungcheol's back make their way through the hall, the two then taking their time to usher the rest of the group to follow.
They don't budge when Minghao softly giggles at the sight of the two love-struck fools.
It's only when a flash of light disrupts their view that they shift their focus on their friends, Seokmin standing with his phone in the hand.
"Doesn't this call for another celebration? New year, new relationship in the group!" Soonyoung hoots right next to Seungcheol's ear, momentarily deafening him.
"Hell no, we gotta clean this mess first," Jihoon mumbles, finger pointing at one giant puke stain on the floor.
"I agree. Hansol and Chan, you guys are exempted from the duty. Go on, be free!" Minghao's comment sparks much dispute between the group as they walk between the new couple, half of them piling into the small washroom while the other half goes to the kitchen, where Jisoo's enthusiastic voice greets them.
Hansol and Chan look at each other again, and they smile.
Soonyoung screams.
"What the fuck happened to my fucking face!?!?!?!?"
-
[21:36 - 09:36 p.m.]
"You're serious?"
Chan nods, Hansol laughing in disbelief.
They stand next to each other, the highway below as their view.
The pair have been outside Minghao's home for much of the day, talking and catching up on each other's hidden thoughts and feelings.
"And I was here thinking I was the only one mindlessly into you."
Chan blushes for the nth time that day.
"I'm glad we cleared this up. All of this was so quick."
"Yeah. I can't believe I've gone from secretly-liking-someone-from-afar to openly liking someone. Up close."
Hansol approaches Chan's face, the younger one giggling before using a finger to push the other away.
"My god. I didn't know you were such a cheesy flirt. You share a smoothie with me, you take me to my favourite café, and then you show me a playlist you made for me? Gosh, I might melt here today."
Hansol smiles.
"It's the least I can do. I'll expect my fair share of treats from you too, though."
Chan hums.
"Like?"
Hansol leans an arm on Chan's shoulder, stating his request right next to Chan's ear.
"Like... a kiss, maybe?"
Chan rolls his eyes.
He turns his head to meet Hansol face-to-face.
"You're kind of insufferable right now. It's new. I like it," he comments, before he shrugs Hansol off, wraps his arms around him, and kisses him under the moonlight.
That is the best first sober kiss one could ask for. The ebb and flow of the traffic and the sound the quick cars make, the lights all around them, the buildings that surround them, and the stars that glitter over the sky, make up the perfect surrounding for the most perfect kiss.
New Year, New Me indeed.