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morning noodles

Summary:

Gunwoo gets drunk and ends up in the bottom bunk. Which is fine, Woojin doesn't mind sharing.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Woojin finally reaches the landing and tries to haul his friend up the last few steps.

"Move your legs, Gunwoo! Like when you do knee jumps. One-two, one-two!"

Gunwoo grumbles something into his ear as he lifts his foot up. It catches on the second to last stair.

They tumble backwards but somehow Woojin manages to hold them both upright as they hit the wall. Pain rolls through all of his sore muscles and still not completely healed wounds. He sighs, patting Gunwoo's head gently. "Well done."

Another grunt. Gunwoo tightens his hands around Woojin's shoulders, breath quickened with whiskey tickling the skin of his neck.

"Just a couple steps more. You can do that, right?" Woojin can feel eager nods against his shoulder. His hand is resting on the small of Gunwoo's back, feeling his burning skin through the fabric. "Two steps back… Okay, now we turn. We turn! Good job, keep walking."

Given the state he's in, it's damn near a miracle that Gunwoo is able to listen to commands, or even walk at all. Woojin is sure he hasn't opened his eyes since he offered to take him to their bedroom fifteen minutes ago.

When they reach their destination he nudges the door open with his foot before shucking his friend off on the bed.

Gunwoo hisses when the side lamp gets turned on, lifting one of his eyelids a smidge. "Hyung?" he whimpers with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.

"Since you're so good at it, drink this," Woojin says, handing him a glass of water with a small white tablet hissing at the bottom. "You'll feel better. Not today, obviously, but in the future. Maybe."

Gunwoo takes the glass and watches Woojin through one barely opened eye as he walks to the bathroom.

Brushing teeth is a dangerous task. It leaves one's thoughts to wander through strange paths, especially if one's slightly drunk on top of that. Woojin tries to empty his head by counting the tiny specks of toothpaste on the mirror until he's finished. The night is too hot for pyjamas, so he just leaves his boxers on.

A little break and hydration seems to have helped Gunwoo get somewhat more sober.

"Are you okay? Want me to help you to the bathroom?"

"No," Gunwoo says as he stands up, sways slightly, and starts shuffling forward. "Mmmmfine," he mumbles, putting his hand briefly on Woojin's arm as he passes him.

Hearing the water flowing reminds Woojin to pour some for later, in case either of them gets thirsty. He uses the same glass, but dumps the tablet residue into an unfortunate plant. With a heavy heart he turns the alarm clock off. There's no way either of them will get up for the morning training.

Maybe Gunwoo will, actually, because he's insane.

Then he half-lays half-sits on the bed, eyes stuck to the familiar rows of springs above him, and waits for the moment they'd strain and creak under Gunwoo's weight and–

The door to the bathroom opens, pulling Woojin out of his thoughts. He clears his throat, waiting with his hands threaded over his lap as Gunwoo drags himself to the bed. It's hard not to notice he had also opted for sleeping in just his trunks.

"'Night," Gunwoo mutters as he turns off the lamp, puts one knee on the mattress and crashes down on top of him.

"Nii–heeey!" Woojin's heart jumps to his throat. He tries to swallow it down before he speaks again. "Gunwoo?"

"Mm, yea?" comes a voice muffled by a pillow.

"What are you doing?"

"Sssleeping." Gunwoo shifts, throwing his bent knee over his friend's legs as his face turns and presses to his neck. "Trying to," he purrs, nose nuzzling into the sensitive spot behind the ear.

Woojin is very quiet, and very still. Swallowing becomes strangely difficult - who knew there are so many steps involved in the process? Then finally, after many, many minutes, as Gunwoo's breath settles into its dreaming rhythm, he gently rests one hand on his back while carding the other through his hair.

He's always watching Gunwoo's body - as any good trainer would - but can't really keep pace with all his cuts, scars and bruises. It's only his eyes he's allowed to use for that - to create a perfect copy of Gunwoo in his mind. That's as far as he'll let himself go, and even that makes guilt sit heavy in his heart. And in a way, he is. He's guilty of hiding that part of himself from Gunwoo. Of lying to him.

The few times when something more happens - like when they fall asleep on the couch and their legs end up entwined together, or when they seemingly can't stop cuddling - kind of like right now, it's always Gunwoo who initiates it.

And right now, Gunwoo doesn't seem to mind being held in his arms. His peaceful, drooling face is the last image Woojin sees before hours later he jolts awake in the middle of getting flipped over.

Gunwoo's face is almost entirely hidden by shadows. "Hyung," comes his ragged voice.

"What? What is it?" Woojin tries to blink the darkness away as he peers down at him.

"I'm thirsty."

"Oh." The angle is awkward, but Woojin manages to grab the glass without spilling all of its contents. "Sit up, Gunwoo."

"Noooo…"

"No? What am I supposed to do, then?"

Gunwoo gives a tiny shrug, followed by a grumble, which then turns into a prolonged whine. "Wooo-jiiin…"

"Shush! Shhh! Stop!" Woojin tries to lift his head up from the pillow, but it's no use, it keeps flopping backwards. "Hmm." After a moment of hesitation he dips two fingers into the glass and brings them to dampen Gunwoo's lips. They're soft and warm as he brushes over them.

Something slick and hot touches his finger pad for a second.

Did… he just…?  Woojin thinks as Gunwoo whispers, "More."

There's only one solution he can think of. He takes a small sip of water into his mouth and brings their lips together.

It's still too dark to see anything clearly, but Woojin can feel Gunwoo's mouth open to take the water from him.

This is just sick care, that's all. A favour for a friend.

He's about to pull away when he feels Gunwoo's tongue pushing between his lips. He lets it in entirely on instinct and only realises what's happening when a hand lands on the back of his head, keeping him close.

They're kissing. Gunwoo is kissing him. His lips are much softer than he ever imagined, his tongue feels like velvet as it explores his mouth. When their tongues finally meet Gunwoo pulls back with a satisfied grunt.

After a moment, when Woojin's eyes get used to the darkness enough, he sees him fast asleep with a blissful smile gracing his handsome face.

Woojin doesn't fall asleep. He stays in the same position, clutching the glass for what feels like hours. His arm is shaking as he finally puts it back on the side table, muscles in his neck and shoulders almost completely numb.

Then falls down on the pillow, right next to his sleeping friend. The smell of green plum soap and whiskey fills his lungs.

Maybe Gunwoo won't hate him. He might even let him stay, but it wouldn't be the same between them.

That is, if he remembers at all…

But Woojin can't lie to him. He'll have to tell him what happened in the morning.

Maybe he could add a couple of souvenirs and some pictures to his get out bag before leaving.

The empty building right across the street will be his first stop. That way he can still help in case there's danger, and also make sure Gunwoo keeps up with his training. It will be harder once they move, but he'll find a way...

The arms around him tighten their hold. Woojin lets himself melt into the touch.

He won't just disappear into thin air - not without saying good bye. That wouldn't be fair to Gunwoo, or to mum. God, what will she think about it?

Woojin glances at the clock, waiting until the first number turns into a 4, then carefully slips out from the bed. After a quick, cold shower he changes into his favourite sweatpants and t-shirt. There are new stains on the mirror to stare at as he brushes his teeth. For a moment he considers packing the toothbrush now, but it's still all wet so he puts it back in the cup - bright red next to an identical blue one.

He sneaks past sleeping Gunwoo and goes downstairs.

The head band he wore last night hangs over the back of the sofa. 'Fighto!' it says in bold, English letters. As he walks into the kitchen, he ties it around his head and silently scowls at the pots and pans in front of him.

Having hangover soup for breakfast has become a common occurrence in their household, especially when Gunwoo was still drinking for two. It didn't follow the traditional recipe as they prefer something more akin to ramen, with eggs, noodles and whatever meat they have on hand.

"Woojin?"

A small voice comes from behind him as he's rummaging through the shelves.

"You're making soup?" mum asks, stopping in the kitchen's entrance. "Ah, he shouldn't have drunk so much last night."

"It was the two year anniversary..." Woojin says, not exactly looking her in the face. "We've run out of kimchi though."

"Oh, I was going to the store anyway."

"But it's too early..."

"It'll be open by the time I get there," she says, waving her hand in a way that makes it clear all further discussion would be futile. She keeps glancing at him while putting the shoes on. "Is everything alright?"

Woojin's lips split into a grin instantly. "Mhm! I'm the one who's not hungover, right?" he says brightly. The smile drops as soon as she turns away.

Pretending to be happy is an underrated talent. When she's almost out the door he adds, "Thank you, mum."

She doesn't see him bow.

After that Woojin goes back to the kitchen and takes out all the ramen packets he can find. Most of it will go into a bag. That should last him a couple of days.

He drops three portions of dry noodles in boiling water, stirring them mindlessly from time to time. He tries to convince himself it's the steam that's making his eyes all wet when suddenly someone stops behind him.

"Why did you do this?" Gunwoo asks, his voice hoarse from sleep.

Woojin's heart drops to his stomach. He puts the large spoon down carefully on the counter before he turns back to face his friend.

Gunwoo got dressed, but his hair is still sticking in all directions and his blood-shot eyes are welling up with tears. "How could you let me kiss you–"

"Forgive me…"

"-while I was drunk? What if I didn't remember our first kiss?"

"… what?"

Woojin is staring with his mouth hanging open. Which is convenient, because Gunwoo sniffles and puts their lips together again.

Their second kiss feels different. Every little brush of skin, every flick of the tongue, the teeth grazing on his lip, all send Woojin's heart into some kind of crazy race. One of Gunwoo's hands cradles the back of his head again while the other finds the hem of his shirt and sneaks up his back.

At some point his own hands start roaming over Gunwoo's body too as he chases his tongue, yet somehow he's fully aware of the precise moment mum walks in on them.

Their eyes meet over Gunwoo's shoulder, mirroring each other in surprise. Woojin tries to get Gunwoo's attention by tugging at his shirt, but that just makes him groan into his mouth before pushing him further into the counter.

Mum looks at the jar of kimchi in her hand, then carefully puts it down on the table. With a sheepish smile she starts walking backwards out of the kitchen. Before disappearing behind the corner, she makes her fingers into two little hearts.

Woojin sighs, which Gunwoo takes as an invitation to deepen the kiss.

The steam from boiling noodles fills the kitchen. They're probably unusable by now, but that's okay. They can make more.

Later.

Notes:

ꨄ︎ ₍^. .^₎Ⳋ

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