Byunghun woke up with a pounding headache, his ears ringing and his mouth dry. He struggled to open his eyes and winced at the light filtering in through his curtains. He groaned and pressed his face into his pillows, regretting everything he did last night.

He tried to remember just how much he actually drank, but thinking made his head throb. He swallowed with difficulty and grimaced at the bitter taste still lingering at the back of his throat, dreading the torturous day to come.

He could kind of recall his first drinks, the taste of alcohol burning its way down his throat. No faces came to mind, any distinguishable features all blurring together. He remembered reaching out to someone, the overfilled shot of vodka in his hand sloshing onto the floor. He could hear his own hiccupped laugh and suddenly he remembered the way he stumbled into someone’s arms.

He furrowed his eyebrows. Did he meet someone last night?

He lifted his head to look and immediately felt stupid. If there was another person in the room he would have noticed, despite his drunken haze. But the pillow by his head was definitely slept on and the sheets were rumpled.

He sat up quickly and had to pause to stop his head from spinning. After his bout of nausea faded away, he swung his feet off his bed and stood up. He padded across his floor warily, listening quietly at the door for any noise. When he was only met with silence, he poked his head out the room and glanced down the hallway.

Why was he being so cautious? Byunghun struggled to pull up the memory of any kind of facial trait, wracking his brain to remember something, anything at all. His brain brought forth a flash of black hair and the curl of a lip, but nothing more, not even a name. He sighed. Not only had he gotten completely trashed, most likely embarrassing himself, not that it was anything new, but he had brought in a complete stranger that he couldn’t even remember.

He felt strangely violated and stripped of his privacy. Whoever this person was, he had come into his house, probably got a few laughs from a very tipsy Byunghun, and left the next morning without a trace.

He drifted into the kitchen, first gulping down a glass of water, then flipping on his coffee machine. He headed towards the bathroom as he waited to the coffee to start dripping. He slowly stripped off his clothes, slightly disgusted by the sheen of sweat and the lingering smell of cologne covering him. He stepped into the shower, jumping as the cold water splashed across his back.

He started to relax as the water warmed, closing his eyes as he squirted some shampoo into his hair. He scrubbed himself clean, makeup running down his face. As he ran his hands across his torso, he yelped as he pressed down on a tender spot right above his left ribs. He blinked the water drops out of his eyes, glanced down and almost screamed.

Right on top of his ribs was a tattoo, the skin around it still slightly red. He definitely didn’t have that when he left home last night. He leaned his head against the wall, hardly believing his misfortune. Now, not only did he have to worry about his unknown one-night stand, but he was in love with him, with a face that blurred in his mind.

 

After he had managed to gather his thoughts and finish washing himself, he rushed to the kitchen to grab his coffee. Even after being woken up for the second time, the memory of his face still didn’t show up and the sense of “what have I done” still lingered.

He sipped his coffee slowly, trudging back towards his room, wanting nothing more than to just collapse back onto his sheets and sleep the day away.

As he walked to the side of his bed, his nose wrinkling at the smell of alcohol still in the air, his eyes caught sight of a slip of paper nestled in the wrinkles of his sheets. He grabbed the paper and unfolded it.

“Sorry for leaving so early. Here’s my number: xxx-xxxx.”

Byunghun flipped it around, searching for a name, but it was unsigned. He frowned, disappointed.

He set it down on his bedside table and picked up his phone, opening up a new chat. He bit his lip, hesitating, before pressing cancel.

 

“Why didn’t you just call him?”

“And say what? Hi, I’m the guy you went home with last night, but I have absolutely no idea who you are or what your name is?”

Chanhee rolled his eyes at him from across the table.

“Okay, so that’s a little bit of a problem. But seriously, if you really have his tattoo, you have to meet him.”

Byunghun glared at the table.

“Who the hell gets a tattoo after a one-night stand?” he muttered, “I’d rather just spare myself the embarrassment and pretend last night never happened.”

“You’ll only torture yourself,” Chanhee shrugged.

“I’ll be fine.”

 

Turns out being fine meant spending the day consumed with the thought of the stranger. He could barely concentrate on his work, his mind constantly bringing up that vague recollection of a flash of black hair.

Eventually, he surrendered and gave up on working, slouching forward onto his deck. He concentrated, but try as he might, he could not remember a single extra detail about the other. He stopped himself from slamming his face onto the keyboard.

 

Byunghun spent his next few days completely distracted, and the solution that came to him one uneventful night, was to go back to the club and find him again.

So he sprung up from the couch, suddenly determined. He headed straight for his closet. His tattoo seemed to ache dully as he got dressed.

He started getting excited, so much so that he almost dashed out the door once he was ready. But he paced himself, slowly walking down the stairs and waved down a taxi. He bounced in the backseat, wringing his hands anxiously.

When he got dropped off at the club’s entrance, the place was already crowded and full, the music thumping. He took a deep breath and walked through the doors, immediately hit by the smell of sweat and alcohol. He grimaced at the mass of bodies moving on the dance floor and made a beeline towards the bar. He needed some kind of push to build up his courage.

He ordered a drink and leaned against the counter, sweeping a gaze across the entire room. His heart tightened a bit when no faces stood out to him. He sighed, turning back towards the bar and downing his drink.

He was about to start sipping his next glass when someone’s voice rang out from beside him.

“Byunghun?”

The hand holding his drink froze halfway to his mouth. He slowly turned his head.

“Hi?” he greeted hesitantly.

He did not recognize the man standing next to him, but he was smiling brightly at him.

“Do I know you?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

The stranger’s smile fell.

“You don’t remember me?” he looked disappointed.

“No, not really,” he smiled awkwardly.

His ribs seemed to warm. Maybe it was just his imagination or the heat of the room.

“Ah…” the guy rubbed the side of his neck, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.”

He turned to leave, his shoulders hunched. Byunghun’s side started to burn. Without thinking, he lurched forward.

“Wait!”

The stranger turned around.

“Are you…” he paused, “Are you the guy I met the other night?”

“Yeah?” he nodded although he looked confused.

Byunghun froze for a second, his eyes scanning the man in front of him. The dark locks of hair, the curl of his lip that seemed so familiar but he ached to remember. His tattoo seemed to want to jump off his skin.

He started rambling desperately. He didn’t want the stranger to leave.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember you. Well, not that I don’t remember you, just not your name. Or most of your face, mostly just your hair, and oh my god, I’m embarrassing myself I should shut up.”

The stranger just smiled fondly at him throughout the whole ordeal, chuckling softly to himself. Byunghun blushed.

“It’s okay. You did a lot of talking last time too. I thought it was cute,” he shrugged, “And you really liked my hair, so I guess that’s why you remember it.”

Byunghun looked down at his feet, mortified. The other’s laugh made him look up.

“I guess I should introduce myself again. I’m Jonghyun. And you’re Byunghun.”

He nodded wordlessly. He finally had a name and a face. The knowledge seemed to appease the heat of his tattoo.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he offered.

“No,” he shook his head, “I don’t want to forget you again.”

He admitted that quite bashfully.

“I’m flattered.”

Jonghyun was smiling widely now.

“What would you rather do instead?”

Byunghun turned and wrinkled his nose at his surroundings.

“Maybe get out of here? This isn’t really my kind of place.”

“Mine either, honestly. I just came here to find you.”

This time it was his turn to be shy.

“So, um,” he cleared his throat once he saw Byunghun smiling at him, “You wanna get out of here?”

Jonghyun waited for Byunghun to grab his things and led the way out the door. Outside was quiet.

“Do you… want to come back to my place?” he asked hesitantly.

Jonghyun looked a little surprised but he nodded.

 

They took a taxi back to his place. Byunghun didn’t say much, his usual awkward self coming out as the alcohol wore off. He did occasionally sneak glances at Jonghyun, trying to memorize the details of his face, scared he would forget him again.

Byunghun quietly led him up to his apartment. Jonghyun didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate once he opened the door. Byunghun was struck by the fact that the other had already been here once before. It made him feel a little strange as he watched Jonghyun settle himself down on the couch. He gestured to Byunghun to join him. The latter swallowed nervously and sat beside him soundlessly.

“You spoke a lot more last time I was here,” Jonghyun remarked jokingly.

“I’m usually quieter,” he fidgeted.

“I know, you mentioned that,” there was a smile in his voice.

Byunghun looked up, curious.

“What else did I say?”

“Little things about yourself. Nothing I’ll hold against you, of course.”

Byunghun frowned. He shifted in his seat to face him.

“It’s not fair how you know so much about me but I know nothing about you.”

Jonghyun leaned closer.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” he breathed.

 

They talked for hours. They never the lights, so they sat bathed in moonlight. It was only when Byunghun started yawning did he realize how late it was.

“Tired?”

“A little.”

Thinking about sleep made another question rise.

“Jonghyun,” the other raised an eyebrow, “What exactly did we do last time?”

The other grinned. His eyes glinted mischievously.

“I can show you,” he offered.

He got up and held out a hand. Byunghun gulped and took it. Jonghyun started pulling him out of the living room.

“Where are we going?”

“To the bedroom.”

Byunghun blanched. What exactly did they do that night? His heart pounded in his chest as Jonghyun led him down the hallway. Once they reached the bedroom, he went straight for the bed and sat down.

“What—”

Jonghyun pulled him down on top of him, lying down at the same time. Byunghun landed on his chest with an oomph. Before Byunghun could exclaim in surprise, the other wrapped his arms around his waist.

“You asked me to cuddle,” he whispered.

Mortified, Byunghun buried his face in his chest as Jonghyun chuckled quietly above him.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was cute. You clung to me like a little koala,” he his hair fondly.

“That’s not a good thing,” his voice came out muffled.

Jonghyun just kept petting his head. Byunghun, too tired to protest, just shifted himself so his body wasn’t completely crushing the other, and nestled his head in the crook of his neck.

“You’re warm,” he murmured.

Normally he would shy away from physical contact, but Jonghyun was comfortable and warm and made him feel safe. So he let himself be comfortable. He closed his eyes.

“Let’s sleep like this, yeah?”

Byunghun was already snoring lightly against his shoulder.

 

Byunghun woke up again to an empty bed. He jolted upright, his head whipping back and forth as he took in the empty room. Again? Why was he alone again? He riffled through the sheets, wondering if the other had left him another note. His heart clenched when he found nothing. He wouldn’t just leave, right? He briefly wondered if he still had the first note, although at this point he didn’t know if it was even worth it anymore to call. His tattoo ached as it protested.

He fell back against the pillows, discouraged. He didn’t even want to get up. He groaned, pressing his palms to his eyes, regretting ever going out to try and find Jonghyun again.

“Byunghun?”

He sat up dizzyingly fast. He blinked the spots out of his eyes.

“Jonghyun?” he gaped at the figure standing in the doorway.

The other walked in, a plate in one hand, a cup of orange juice in the other, a tired smile plastered to his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um,” he bit his lip, “I thought you might have left.”

Jonghyun sat down next to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d wake up before I was done,” he handed Byunghun the plate, “Here, I made you breakfast.”

The latter looked down in surprise. A warm feeling spread across his chest as he took in the breakfast the other made for him.

“Wow,” he flushed, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Byunghun picked up his fork and took a bite, chewing tentatively. He smiled at the taste.

“Is it okay?” Jonghyun asked worriedly.

“It’s delicious,” he beamed at him.

He gestured towards his empty hands.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

He shook his head.

“It’s okay. It’s for you.”

Byunghun frowned and scooted over, turning around to face the other. He scooped up some food and brought it to Jonghyun.

“Open,” he said stubbornly.

Jonghyun smiled lightly and obediently opened his mouth, letting Byunghun feed him. They ate in silence, Byunghun alternating between feeding himself and feeding Jonghyun. The latter stopped him when most of it was gone.

“The rest is for you,” he pushed the fork away from himself.

Byunghun finished the remainder himself. He could feel the other’s eyes on him the whole time. Once he scraped the plate clean, he looked up to find a bizarre look going across his face.

“You okay?”

“I think I have something to tell you,” the other blurted out.

He looked up at him expectantly.

“I… Actually, you know what? Just look.”

He pulled up his sleeve. Byunghun stared at his arm in confusion, but it turned to heart-pounding excitement when he recognized the tattoo on his arm.

“I know it’s unexpected, and really weird for me to get a tattoo after just seeing you two times, but I couldn’t help it,” Jonghyun started talking before he could say anything, “You’re just so… I don’t know, so great, I just… It was inevitable.”

He looked at him helplessly. To his surprise, Byunghun started laughing.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy right now,” he shook his head at the crestfallen expression on the other’s face, “And I also have something I want to show you.”

He lifted up his shirt to reveal Jonghyun’s tattoo on his ribs.

“Who gets a tattoo after one night?” he asked softly, “And who else can say they don’t remember whose tattoo it was? Don’t worry, you’re not the insane one here.”

Jonghyun started to grin and launched himself at the other, tackling him backwards onto the bed. He hugged him tightly, his eyes bright. Byunghun, feeling confident, turned his head and brushed his lips over his. Right after, he got shy and pulled away. Jonghyun laughed and leaned down himself.

“You know, I liked the drunk, loud, talkative Byunghun, but I think I’m really in love with the sober, shy and awkward Byunghun. He’s pretty great.”

He took his hand.

“And just so you know, I’m not leaving. Never again.”