A/N: Since it's technically a new story, I thought I should include some sort of intro. Sorry had major writer's block on this one plus I'm starting school too soon and have been busy freaking out about it/spazzing on twitter (come join me --> here)

Summary: Woobin and Jongsuk celebrate the start of a new dorm life. Slight chaos ensues. School/College AU.

Warnings: UM maybe PG15 IDK, alcohol consumption (obviously), language (as usual)

It has been a rather harrowing experience with the student housing staff involving a long chain of answered emails and at least one shouting match over the phone, but Woobin and Jongsuk are finally going to be rooming together for the next four years at college. And Woobin can’t be happier about it.

“Man, I can’t believe they actually screwed up the pairing system and tried to blame it on us for selecting our rooms wrongly,” Woobin grumbles, but there is a curl on his lips and a glint in his eyes as he looks at Jongsuk. Jongsuk laughs in response, shrugging. It doesn’t seem to matter anymore that they had been allocated different rooms at first when the selection results were released, Woobin a single dorm in the newest block on campus and Jongsuk a double room, in one of the older halls with a random freshman. Woobin had been furious when he first logged in and saw ‘Kim Woobin, Hall 22, Single Room’, and had hurridly logged in using Jongsuk’s details - don’t ask how he knew them - only to be greeted by ‘Lee Jongsuk, Hall 5, Double Room’. What the ? He’d called the school, and had felt his blood pressure rise when all the lady on the other end had to say, rather disinterestedly, was: ‘it shows on the system you chose a single room. So your friend got roomed with someone else. Sorry.’

But of course, Woobin would not be Woobin if he lets people get the better of him, and he’d dug up the receipt he’d been issued after paying for the hall application fee and sent it over as proof that he had, in fact, chose the correct option on the application form. Listing Lee Jongsuk as his roommate. As if there’s anyone else he would choose to room with. At the memory, Woobin snorts.

But it’s all alright now because Jongsuk is beside him, and they have a room to themselves, and four great years to spend together. Never mind that the room’s a little on the small side, just enough for two single beds and a couple of cupboards and desks, and the next few years will most likely be spent on cramming for more exams and wishing for reprieve. They’re together, and that’s all that matters for now.

It definitely calls for a celebratory drink, Woobin thinks. Or two. Or two dozen.

“Hey, wanna grab a drink?” he says, propping himself up from a lying position to rest on his elbows. His bed is stiff, harder than the one he’s used to at home. Pausing his unpacking, Jongsuk looks up from his suitcase.

“Are you serious.”

“Yeah, why not?” Woobin says, frowning. “We haven’t had one in a long time.”

Jongsuk tilts his head, and pressing his lips together, gestures around the messy room as a sort of answer. “We kind of have a lot to pack…”

“Or unpack,” Woobin counters. He sits up to get a better look at Jongsuk.

“What’s wrong? There’s lots of time for us to settle all this. It’s our first night here, let’s just have fun!”

Jongsuk turns around without replying, making a show of arranging a stack of t-shirts on his desk. Woobin just begins to lose hope of having a great first night in college with his best friend and starts to lean against the wall in defeat when, from his corner in the room, Jongsuk’s voice comes from where he still has his back Woobin.

“Fine. But only one drink.”

*  *  *

As expected from being in Woobin’s company, there is no such thing as just one drink.  

“I’m really drunk,” Jongsuk says, grinning.

Woobin looks at the (rather substantial) bottle of vodka shared between them that is now more empty than full and laughs.

“Your tolerance really increased,” he notes. Jongsuk doesn’t exactly have the best reputation from drinking sessions, this he knows only too well. But Woobin isn’t feeling too clear-headed himself either, his head buzzing in a heavy, pleasant manner. He decides that he really, really likes alcohol… almost as much as he likes Jongsuk, actually.

“....What…?” Jongsuk’s voice sounds a little far off, and seems to reach him slowly. “...You like what?”

Woobin laughs again. “I really like alcohol,” he shouts, much louder than he needs or intends to. “I really like it.”

Jongsuk flips around - he’s been lying on the floor, on his back - and turns his head in his direction. “No, what you said after.”

Woobin’s heart hammers in his chest, and he sits up abruptly. Or at least, he tries to, but his head swells at the sudden motion. He lies back down again quickly. Grabbing his plastic cup, he haphazardly pours himself another shot.

“I said, I like it-” he tips the cup and gulps down its contents in one shot, because it, if you’re gonna do something stupid you might as well have a bit of dutch courage to help you along, “--almost as much as I like you.”

Something fast is pumping through his veins. It isn’t unpleasant, but he can’t decide if it’s alcohol, or adrenaline. Or maybe it’s the fact that Jongsuk hasn’t said anything yet.

“Please don’t get weird about this,” Woobin says hurridly. , this is weird isn’t it--

And then, amazingly, Jongsuk is laughing: doubling over as his guffaws fills their small accommodation. Woobin stares.

Jongsuk’s amusement subsides somewhat, but he’s still giggling. “Oh my god, you must be more intoxicated than I thought. You never say add please to any sentence when sober.”

“So you’re not weird about it?” Woobin just has to know. Instinctively, he reaches for the glass bottle once again; it gave him something to do with his hands. Jongsuk drains his own cup and tosses it to a far corner of the room.

“Hey! What did you do that for,” Woobin says, frowning at where the cup landed. “Do you not want to drink anymore?” Now he’s sure he’s ed everything up, but the question is has Jongsuk drunk enough yet to forget about this in the morning--?

Jongsuk sits up. “No.” Stretching his upper body to close the distance between him and Woobin, he makes a move for the vodka bottle. “But drinking from the bottle is more fun.” But his attempt to claim the bottle as his own is thwarted when, upon realising what Jongsuk's about to do, Woobin feels a sudden and bizarre sense overprotectiveness for said bottle. Jongsuk is going to have to fight for it.

“Nuh uh-” Woobin ducks deftly from Jongsuk’s scope of reach (or as deftly as a person under the influence can, at least) and rolls a distance away. “-the bottle is precious and shared property, and I’m not drinking shots with your spit as a mixer-”

Jongsuk has more agility than Woobin gives him credit for, and pounces on the challenge with little difficulty. In this case, the challenge has presented itself in the form of Woobin being an unreasonable prick, so it is on Woobin that Jongsuk leaps on, pinnng the other boy under his own body.

“Ow! Sukkie get off!”

“Give me the bottle.”

“You’re an , so no.” Woobin throws out the arm that is latching on to the bottle and tries to get it as far away from the boy currently holding him prisoner.

“Give. Me. The. Bottle.” For a drunk person, Jongsuk enunciates his words pretty clearly. At least they sound clear to Woobin, when Jongsuk leans in and whispers each word in his ear while pausing a little in between each of them. The sensation of every sound brushing against the hairs on his neck sends shivers down Woobin’s spine. Jongsuk is suddenly too close.

“Get off me, please,” he says, determinedly looking away from the boy above him.

Jongsuk flicks his tongue out to moisten his dry lips. “You see, you’re the one being weird about it.”

“I thought you didn’t hear what I said earlier,” Woobin says truthfully, now training his eyes unto Jongsuk’s. “Or I thought you were just gonna ignore it.” Head spinning, Woobin tries to get out from under Jongsuk in an attempt to get some fresh air. Or more alcohol.

But Jongsuk surprises him by reaching down and snaking an arm around his waist; he feels himself being pulled closer to the other boy, his own breathing rough and loud in his ears. They’re still too close, but Woobin finds himself bringing up his arm - vodka bottle rolling away, forgotten - to wrap around Jongsuk’s midriff. It is conveniently exposed, his shirt having ridden up as a result of Jongsuk’s playful exertions. Trailing his fingers over Jongsuk’s cold, flat stomach, Woobin hears Jongsuk’s breath hitch.

What the are we doing--?

Before he can think anymore, however, his lips are met with a pair of warm, moist ones. He’s really struggling to breathe now.

Stars explodes behind his eyes that he wasn’t aware of closing in the first place. In the distance - for his limbs feel quite detached from him at the moment - he feels tingles travelling down his toes, his arms, his fingers. Jongsuk’s hair is falling in his face and tickling his nose, his forehead, his cheeks, the scent of intoxication strong on his breath as he exhales against Woobin.

He doesn’t realises it has ended until suddenly a great weight is lifted off him, all at once, and he snaps open his eyes to find Jongsuk yanking him up into a sitting position.

“-Oh my god I didn’t realise I was crushing you but you weren’t even breathing-”

Woobin grins through his heaving. It feels good to breathe freely, but he's already missing the feel of Jongsuk pressing drunkedly unto him.

“S-so- you’re not gonna be weird about this right?” Half of him wants Jongsuk to answer. The other half just wants to continue kissing him.

Jongsuk leans in. “You know I actually would, but seeing that we’ll be roommates for a long time to come…” He sighs, a crease forming on his forehead. “You know what, let’s just continue kissing - our first kiss was kind of lame." He pauses.

"This conversation is lame. I'm drunk, es!”

And without further warning, he presses his lips against Woobin once more, and Woobin blanks out for a completely different reason. Perhaps, maybe... he likes alcohol only as much as he likes Jongsuk after all.

* * *

“Ah what the , the vodka got all over the floor!”

“Well at least I wasn’t stupid enough to leave half my clothes on the floor...”

“WE’LL SEE WHO’S SO INDIFFERENT AFTER I’M DONE USING YOUR CLOTHES INSTEAD!”

- - 

Thank you guys for still being here for this I don't deserve anyone to read anything I write at all otl ;A; But I guess this is it for this story of sorts, tell me what you thought of it!