The stench of vomit permeating the cubicle makes Himchan dry-heave all over again. Nothing comes up, the contents of his stomach already coating the inside of the toilet bowl in the form of gastric acid and chunks of half-digested food, and all that's left is bitter bile burning his throat. He spits to rid himself of the taste in his mouth and rests his forehead against cool porcelain as he tries to catch his breath.

A large part of Himchan wishes he could stay like this forever, locked away where no one can see him and no one can find him, but he knows that's not an option so with a sigh he eventually gets back on his feet. His pants are a mess from kneeling on the floor for so long. He finds that he doesn't care, though. If a pair of dirty school uniform slacks is going to blow holes in people's faulty illusion of him being perfect then so be it.

It's not until Himchan leaves the bathroom stall that he realizes that he's not as alone as he thought he was and he freezes in place. A guy he vaguely recognizes – he thinks his name is Daehyun or something – is leaning against the wall. At first he looks taken aback when he sees Himchan and Himchan halfway hopes that he just got here and that he didn't hear anything. But a smile spreads on Daehyun's face. There's something dangerous about it and it makes Himchan uneasy.

Self-consciously, Himchan wipes the back of a shaking hand over his lips as he walks over to the sink. He purposely avoids eye contact the entire time as he washes his hands. He can feel Daehyun's eyes on his back, though, burning into him like embers scorching his flesh. “So,” Daehyun speaks after a while of deafening silence. “This is how everyone's beloved Kim Himchan maintains his perfect figure, huh?”

Himchan's jaw clenches. So he did hear. Great. “What do you want from me?” he asks with a sigh. His tone isn't angry or irritated, just tired. He's so damn tired.

“Nothing.” Himchan scoffs at that reply. That is such a lie. Everyone always wants something from him. Always. “You shouldn't do that, though,” Daehyun adds and Himchan sighs again because here it comes, the lecture. “No one is going to want to make out with you if you taste like barf.”

Surprise is what makes Himchan raise his head. “What?”

Daehyun is watching him in the mirror. He's still smiling, but he wrinkles his nose. “I've tried making out with people who just retched before. Not a pleasant experience, let me tell you.”

Himchan keeps staring at him because out of all the things Daehyun could focus on that are wrong about this, that is probably the oddest one. “You... you're not going to tell me that it's unhealthy and that I need help or something?” Himchan has considered telling his friends about this and has had the confession at the very tip of his tongue more than once. Imagining the looks of disgust and pity he would undoubtedly get from them has been what made him change his mind every time. He doesn't like being patronized.

“Nah,” Daehyun says. “It's your body. If you decide to destroy it like this then that's not really any of my business. I can't say that I understand why you'd do it, though. All that perfectly good food going to waste.” He looks wistful as he glances towards the toilet where Himchan just disposed of his lunch.

Himchan frowns at this. “You don't understand,” he mutters.

“There's not really much to understand, is there?”

Trembling fingers clutch the sink. “I need this.”

Daehyun lets out a laugh as sour as the taste that still lingers at the back of Himchan's tongue. “Why? You have a hot girlfriend, a bunch of friends, decent grades and a secured spot in one of our country's top colleges once you're done in this hole just because of who you're related to. I'm sure that in about ten years you'll have a job at daddy's law firm and live in a house with a white picket fence with your wife and two-point-five kids and a dog named ing Coco. Yeah, wow, what a terrible ing life.”

“It's not what I want!” Himchan didn't mean to raise his voice, but it serves its purpose. Daehyun goes quiet, his mocking sneer fades. “It's not what I want,” Himchan repeats, softer this time. “I...” He swallows, unclenches his fists. “I want to be a musician.” He has never told anyone about this. He knew they'd all laugh at him if he did and then tell him to pursue a career that's more realistic.

“So be a musician,” Daehyun says. All hints of teasing are gone now.

“That's easier said than done.”

“You won't know that until you try.”

“You don't understand,” Himchan repeats impatiently, shaking his head. “You don't know my family, you don't know what they're like.”

“ 'em,” Daehyun says with vigor and Himchan laughs dryly.

“I wish it was that easy, but it's not. I mean, I already feel like enough of a disappointment because I don't like girls.” The moment the words have left Himchan his eyes go wide and he freezes in terror. It was a mistake. It wasn't supposed to slip out, it just did. He never told anyone about that either, he didn't even get around to admitting it to himself until recently, but it seems like he has no trouble talking about it with someone who's essentially a stranger.

There's no change in Daehyun's expression. He continues to calmly watch Himchan and for a while he doesn't speak. When he finally does, his voice is wavering despite his attempt at making it sound cheerful: “Welcome to the club.” For the first time he appears vulnerable. Himchan thinks to himself that smug looks better on his face, but then it hits him what Daehyun just revealed and understanding wells up in him. Perhaps he hasn't been giving Daehyun the credit he deserves.

“I need this,” Himchan says again, gesturing between himself and the bathroom stall. Maybe if he explains it he can make Daehyun understand. “This is the only thing in my life that I have control of.”

“That's really ing sad,” Daehyun says after digesting his words. Himchan just nods. “I can think of things to do with your body that are much more interesting than that, though.”

“Such as?”

Daehyun shrugs. “I don't know, personally I'm a pretty big fan of casual ing and getting high. Not necessarily in that order.”

Chewing on his bottom lip in thought, Himchan lets his eyes travel up Daehyun's body, starting at his feet and ending on his thick lips. “Are you offering?” Himchan asks.

Daehyun shrugs again. “Maybe,” he says levelly. “Wanna skip and go back to my place?”

Himchan studies him a little longer. Then he looks away. For the first time in what feels like forever he meets his own gaze in the mirror. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot and he looks like . He lets out a heavy exhale. “Sure.”

~*~

A/N: for anonymous who wanted daechan angst (but no character death).
all I could think about when I thought of ideas for this was "kim himchan is flawless, he has two fendi purses and a silver lexus, I hear his hair's insured for ten thousand dollars", etc. obviously I didn't go with that exact approach, but that's how this happened. so... yeah. I don't know what else to say. I hope it's good enough, anon.