“What is... your name?”

This was all Yifan could spit out after at least ten minutes of silence. He had been seated at a hospital bed and waiting for reports of the doctors. He had insisted he was fine -- but the blood streaming down his arms couldn’t stop people from dialing 119 in shock and terror. The boy sitting across from him seemed to be fine though, he had stayed simply for the reason of thanks.

The boy gave a blink, scratching the back of his head. “Uhm.”

He waited as a silence surpassed them once more. “... Nevermind, it’s fine.” He muttered, getting the sense that he didn’t want to talk. He raised his bandaged hand with a small grunt, holding it out for him. “I’m Kris, though.”

“Thanks again.” A hesitant hand gripped his, shaking it before falling back into the chair, resuming the quiet, awkward moment in time. Yifan had his head laying body against the back of the bed, occasionally glancing at the boy.

He couldn’t help that he was curious.

Curious about this boy that had somehow not seen cars ready to dart forward and hit him. What would have happened had he not swerved his own car?

The boy was tall, with long legs, a brunette... somehow, strangely familiar, as if he had seen him before. He had observed that his movements were lanky, just awkward in nature. His body was stiff, almost like some out dated robot. His age, he couldn’t guess. He expected him to be almost the same age, for he wasn’t old, but he wasn’t a teenager... stuck awkwardly between the two stages. Just like himself.

“Is it alright if I go now?”

The boy’s voice had caught him off guard, just as it had done during the accident scene. Seeing his face, Yifan had expected a different sort of voice, yet the boy spoke with a deeper tone than his own -- it didn’t parallel his face. With a couple more blinks, Yifan couldn’t respond in any way but a nod. He watched as the boy got up from his seat, bowing his head then quickly speeding off through the doors.

And that was that of the boy.
Gone with the wind, just like that.



He still remembered the figure of the back’s boy even after a week. His hand was healing well after a few stitches. He really had no moment to rest afterward however, for screaming came from both sides of his life. His father, for getting into an accident rather than meeting with possibly his first and most important future boss, and his friends for leaving a hopeless girl alone on her birthday, when all she wanted was spend time with him.

He needed a break from all this, that’s what he needed.

(1) New Message from Jongin:
hey, can you come out to our normal meeting place? i really need a drink.

You need a drink?

(1) New Message from Jongin:
just get here already.

Yifan quickly got back into his cab, letting one of the staff members know he’d be leaving early, asking her to notify his father. The fingers clutched his wheel, leaning back into his seat. Getting caught at a red light again, he had a strange sense of deja vu, as his eyes immediately scanned the area. No, no lost boys crossing the streets tonight. Had he been expecting something? Why was he almost disappointed at this fact? Why was he even --

Among the sidewalks, a head bulged out of the many people just aimlessly walking. His height made it so easy to spot... that same boy.

As cars honked behind him, he stepped on the pedal again, catching the lane right beside the sidewalks, slowly catching up to the boy. Strangely enough, it was the same club Jongin was waiting for him at. With hurried thoughts, he pushed himself out of his car, shoving his keys to a carboy, then chasing after the tall boy into the club.

He was greeted by a flood of people, unable to find that same tall boy again. Where was he? With just an exasperated sigh, he gave up, moving the normal room in the more secluded in the section of the club, pushing past the drunk young and old people, finally finding Jongin in their designated room. After closing the door, he wasn’t surprised to find Jongin just as drunk -- if not more, with his head laying against the table, at least six to eight bottles of beer messily placed around.

“Why’d you drink so ing much, you idiot -- did you drive here on your own?”

Jongin’s head immediately shot up along with his hands, flinging at him. “You’re finally here!”

He reeked of alcohol, just like his father always was. “I thought you wanted to drink together, not get wasted on your own...” Pushing his best friend off of himself, he took a seat next to him, grabbing a bottle of beer himself and starting to drown the bitter liquid down his own throat.

“I couldn’t wait for you... I’m really... really depressed.” Jongin sighed like a high school girl, his body falling onto the table again.

“I think...” He paused, as if it was extremely hard to speak. He resumed again after another few shots, closing his eyes. “I don’t want Kyungsoo and me to be friends anymore.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to be friends anymore -- I want us to... go out, and stuff.”

“...”

“I just confessed to my best friend that I’m gay, and he’s silent.”

“Well what the hell am I supposed to say? Congratulations? I’ve always somehow known, anyway. And with Kyungsoo’s recent coming out of the closet...”

“It’s all Kyungsoo’s fault...”

“You like him a lot.”

“I don’t just like him, Kris. I think I love him.”

“Love?”

“Love, legit love. I see pretty noonas dancing up there in front of me, on my lap... and all I can think about is how cute Kyungsoo would look trying to walk in heels. What’s wrong with me?”

“What’s wrong with being in love?”

“I dunno... but I wanna get wasted and do crazy tonight, Kris.”

“No one’s stopping you.”

“It ... because Kyungsoo wouldn’t even care if I slept with all the women in the world... all the women here... yet I’m so angry with just the fact that Kyungsoo kissed some random cute guy from the library he met just today. It makes me so damn angry...” Jongin’s fist met the table, causing a few bottles to fall to the ground, shattering glass. “I wish... I could see some anger, or some sadness sparked on those cute eyes of his when I tell him I slept with a y noona tomorrow morning... but of course, he’d just say, ‘Oh, that’s nice, was she pretty?’ and shrug it off.”

“You’re drunk, let’s get you home.” Yifan grumbled, his ears already sick of the endless electronic music flooding through the club, even if they were in a separate room.

“I’m going to sleep here... all night, so Kyungsoo wonders where the I am...” And with those words, Yifan watched his friend collapse onto the couch, starting to snore. His hands traveled into his hair, massaging his temples as a headache started to form. Being friends with idiots really did have its negatives. He moved away from Jongin onto the other couch, staring at his sleeping body for a moment before deciding to lean against the his own couch.

The fine lines of friendship and love... it was a strange thing.




He felt himself drifting off to a state of sleep, barely able to keep his eyes open. His ears perked up at the sound of the door opening and closing, wondering if he was correct noting the footsteps that came toward him. His eyes still remained close, as they seemed unwilling to open. It had been a tiring week, afterall.

His breaths stopped for a moment when he felt someone sitting onto his lap, hands trailing down from his chest to his crotch. Yifan could feel the warm exhale of the other on his skin, yet he was quick to suppress a shiver. “What are you doing --”

“Stay quiet.”

He knew this voice.

 

____________________________________

So obviously there will be some / in the next chapter...
/SIGHS. I CAN'T WRITE WELL.
But I shall try.
Thanks for reading up till here, I hope you guys like it. ;_;  ♥
Please always leave your reactions in the comments, I love reading them!