He was unsure of what exactly was happening, but he felt something wet seeping into his shoe, and there was something smooth in his hand, and his jeans felt sticky. His stomach churned uncomfortably in his... Well, stomach. Where was he, again? Head swiveling heavily on his neck, he looked around at the dark room and the bright colors dancing off the wall. There was a shrill ringing in his ears, like a hummingbird screaming, and his shirt was hugging his body way too uncomfortable. Groaning, he started to peel it off his sweaty body.

"Woah, hold it, Taemin," a voice said frantically, and a pair of warm hands were grabbing his wrists to keep them from continuing to pull up. He looked at the figure groggily, blinking heavy eyes as three heads coalesced into one. Minho. Right. He'd come to a bar with Minho. The whole world seemed to stop spinning a bit since he had something to focus on for once. Every muscle seemed like water as he tried to get off the bar stool that his seemed to have been stuck to for the past hour. Or was it three hours? Did time even exist at this point?

"W'time izzit?" he managed to choke out, his body swaying back and forth before it inevitably thumped against Minho's chest and his eyes closed again. He felt himself being hoisted up by a pair of arms. The sound of the bottle shattering against the floor when he didn't even remember letting go of it threatened to break through the malaise that he'd buried himself in with alcohol, but the desire to be piss-poor-drunk was strong, and it persevered. The uncomfortable feeling of being carried like a sack of groceries barely bothered him, and he only seemed to notice the lack of deafening music once they are outside in the cold air and the numbing silence. The touch of smooth leather brushed against his cheek as a jacket was draped over his body. Minho's cologne filled his nose and his heart thumped just a bit harder at the scent.

He barely felt himself being dumped into the back of a cab unceremoniously, wrinkling his nose at the smell of stale people and unwashed cigarettes. Or was it the other way around. Minho's sturdy body was the only think keeping him from spilling out all over the seat like a tipped-over bowl of soup. He smiled a bit as he turned his cheek to nuzzle into Minho's shoulder, sighing softly as the security of knowing that Minho's was by his side made him feel just a bit more stable.

How many times had Minho pulled his out of every other corner dive bar and back-alley club? How many times had Minho held back his hair while Taemin spilled his guts into the toilet? How many times had Minho pushed off angry bartenders and paid Taemin's tab when he'd been too drunk to find his wallet? He looked up at Minho with a smile that turned his eyes into little crescents, resting on his cheeks.

"I love you," he murmured to the man, leaning on him again and humming with happiness. He opened his mouth to yawn, but instead, tonight's dinner of bar nachos and salted peanuts came pouring out all over Minho's lap and sneakers. Taemin wanted to melt into the floor right then and there, and maybe melt through the floor, and hopefully be run over by this taxi and also the barrage of traffic that was behind them. Minho's nose wrinkled in distaste, and he gave Taemin's head a slow, pitying pat.

"... Okay, Taemin. Okay."

~

Taemin woke up in his own bed, wrapped in a bathrobe by someone who had clearly done this a number of times. He groaned as he sat up, holding his head and feeling his brain having a fight with his skull. In the distance, someone was finishing up a shower, and Taemin's eyes nearly fell out of his head when he realized who it must be.

The door to his bathroom opened, and the man jumped back in his bed with a pillow in front of himself as if he could protect himself from the mountain of mistakes that he'd made last night. Minho's emerged in what seemed like an unnecessary amount of shampoo-scented stream, a towel around his waist and another one in his hands, drying his hair roughly. The older man looked up, and the two locked eyes for a moment before Minho let out an amused chuckle. 

"Look who decided to wake up," he teased, sitting on the bed next to his friend and pulling on a pair of Taemin's larger sweatpants, since they were the only things that would really fit. Taemin's wondered if they are just going to pretend that he hadn't confessed, and honestly, why shouldn't they? It wasn't like Taemin was sober while doing it, or even remembered saying it completely.

Okay, that was a lie. He remembered saying it, and then immediately after, blowing chunks. 

"How long was I out?" he complained with a soft growl as he tried to get in a more comfortable position. His spine was ardently against that. He heard Minho's amused laugh, and he turned to glare at the man only for the action to make his eyeballs want to roll out of his head.

"About three hours," Minho replied through laughs. He lit up a cigarette and got up to open the window to Taemin's tiny apartment. Soon, the rancid stench of burning nicotine was wafting through the room. Taemin held out a hand for a share, which Minho begrudgingly handed over.

"Yeah? Where'd your clothes go in that three-hour time frame?" he asked as he pressed the thin tube between his lips and took a long drag. The other man's shirtlessness was not going unnoticed, that was for sure. Minho laughed and snatched the cigarette back, giving it a few more puffs and half-sitting, half-leaning on Taemin's messy desk. A few sheets of paper rustled and crunched under that admittedly well-shaped .

"They're still drying in your bathroom," the older man finally answered, gesturing to the open bathroom door. "Whatever you ate tonight, don't eat it again."

" you," Taemin answered reflexively. Minho have another loud, short laugh, a cloud of smoke flying from between his plush lips. He put out the cigarette on Taemin's windowsill, creating yet another singed hole in a pattern of singed holes in the varnished wood. He got up and ruffled Taemin's hair as he headed to the bathroom to check on his clothes, and the younger boy had to quickly turn his head to hide how the simple action made his cheeks warm. From the rustling of fabric in the bathroom, it seemed that Minho's clothes were dry and he'd be leaving soon. It hurt for Taemin to admit, but this was the last favorite part of their weekly routine, this little game they seemed to play like a dog chasing its own tail. Only who was the dog and who was the tail?

The sound of Minho exiting the bathroom snapped Taemin out of whatever trance he'd been in. He looked up and smiled a bit at the sight of his friend, getting up despite the soreness and the dizziness. He battled the aftermaths of the night before to go over and wrap his arms around Minho's sturdy waist.

"I'm heading out now," Minho said gently, patting Taemin's head again. Feeling the familiar head-pats made Taemin even less willing to let go, but he did it anyway, sighing before smiling up at Minho. His arms fell limply by his side, feeling useless if they weren't wrapped around the older man's body. He hated that feeling, but there it was nonetheless, an emptiness gnawing at his stomach walls, completely separate from the emptiness that came from puking up the only meal he'd had in 24 hours and then not replacing it with more food.

"Don't get in a cab with a mass murderer," Taemin cautioned with a playful smile on his lips, trying to bury the sadness of having to see Minho's back again. The charming smile on the older man's face really wasn't helping either. He turned and opened the door, stepping over the threshold easily.

"By the way, I love you too," he said casually, tossing the words over his shoulder. It was a punch in Taemin's stomach, but in the most pleasant of ways. Taemin grabbed the door and forced it to stay open, his eyes widening and his jaw unhinging itself from the rest of his face.

"How dare the !" he managed to force out, despite the sentence itself making no sense. For probably the thousandth time today, Minho laughed hard. He turned his body to face Taemin's fully, looking into his eyes with that charming smile of his plastered on his face, and Taemin didn't know whether he wanted to punch it or kiss it.

"I didn't want to tell you last night while you were completely trashed, but I figured I should say it at some point. So, Lee Taemin, I love you too."