Something has his skull in a vice grip, and they keep tightening it. He wants to protest, to shout that he is going to die but he cannot quite get his mouth to cooperate with him. 

So he opens his eyes, and he regrets it. 

Streams of sunlight spill into his eyes, muffled behind sheer, pale curtains, but excruciating all the same. 

He grunts and rolls away from the offensive light, but it makes him feel sort of like he is about to decapitate himself. 

“Oh ,” he finally moans, voice hoarse and cracking from lack of sleep. 

Morning breath and stale alcohol feel heavy on his tongue and make him feel just a bit nauseous.  Speaking of alcohol... 

Changmin bolts upright so quickly, head explosions be damned. He looks around the room and feels something heavy creep into his chest because he doesn’t recognize it at all. Everything inside is stark white, perfectly arranged like the room has been staged for a magazine shoot. It is perfect, except there isn’t a touch of anything personal, no sign that the space is lived in at all. 

Where is he? And who the hell is he there with and- 

Where are his clothes?  

Oh Junsu is going to slaughter him- but not if he offs himself first. 

The doctors breathing has gone light, frantic shallow breaths that don’t actually open up his lungs what so ever.  He knows what to do for people who are having panic attacks, and yet none of the knowledge wants to materialize for him to grasp, so maybe he will just die there, in the center of a large opulent bed from a panic attack during a hangover. 

But he cannot remember anything as he tries to think back to last night. 

In his panic he doesn’t hear the door as it opens, or anyone approach either. 

It is a hand touching his shoulder that snaps him from his stupor as he feels like he might pass out because he cannot breathe. Fortunately, the touch scares him out of his skin and briefly Changmin forgets that he cannot breathe because he lets out a shriek that both rivals that of a frightened 5 year old girl and makes his brain want to drip out of his ear. 

The hand withdrawals immediately, and only then does the doctor look up, heart racing in his chest... for the whole world to just stop. 

Yunho’s eye’s expression in tensely blank, save for a single arched eyebrow, but he can tell by the tense line of the alpha’s mouth that he is barely keeping it together.  

He doesn’t even remember meeting Yunho, just waiting for him, the text that informed him the man would be late to their outing. 

“You... you scared me,” he breathes needlessly, voice cracking something terrible. 

That seems to be the tipping point though, because the older man loses it despite his efforts. He tries to cover the barking laughter with a cough at first, but it doesn’t work at all. 

“Shut up, Yunho. Where are my clothes?” 

“You don’t remember? Not only was I kind enough to give you my bedroom but you even were sweet enough to come wake me and let me know you were going to strip down because the comforter was too hot,” Yunho’s tone goes deadpan as he speaks, and Changmin can’t help but feel his face warm slightly. 

He was not a good drunk really, but he could hold his liquor rather well... To find himself such a mess... Well how much did he drink last night? 

“Here, I didn’t come in just to give you a fright.” 

He is awfully grateful for the glass of water passed into his hand as well as the tablets that appear moments later. 

“Why is your room so...” 

“Nice?” 

“Lifeless and cold,” Changmin deadpans as he glanced around, it was lovely, really, but it didn’t feel lived in at all. 

“Hm, hope you choke on your saliva,” the alpha mocks, tone just as lifeless as his own had been, but the grin is back on Yunho’s face, “go take a shower, you smell terrible. I’ll go burn some toast for breakfast.” 

-----

“You... don’t remember.” 

Yunho knows he sounds terrible unimpressed, but that is because he is. Leave it to Changmin to be the worst drunk to ever exist, really.  He sort of is, as far as Yunho is concerned.  

He has gone blurting out personal information about one of his patients, information that could have been so damning. He hopes it was because he was Changmin’s table mate, but he honestly has no idea. If he were Jaejoong he would sue the damned man, but then the apparent omega was aware. Neither did Yunho know why he felt protective of the boy he didn’t really know. 

“Oh god, what did I do?” 

“Knowing you want to put on a glittery red dress and heels is something I could have lived without knowing,” he keeps his expression blank as he lies through his teeth. 

What he does not expect is for the beta’s eyes to widen just a tiny bit, and Yunho nearly spits his sip of water across the table. Luckily he hadn’t been joking, near burnt toast and scrambled eggs are about the extent of his kitchen skills, right alongside instant noodles and anything he can reheat in a microwave. It is a shame his kitchen never gets used, but it wasn’t like he could have it cut out of the floor plan. 

“That is something private, just... forget I said anything,” the doctor insists. 

“Definitely not, I at least deserve to know where it came from.” 

“Helping Junsu study one of his musicals, and I was reading the lines for the female lead,” and then he gets a noncommittal shrug. 

It is blackmail material, if he had ever heard any. With any luck he won’t feel particularly vengeful against his best friend.  He opts not to mention Jaejoong or omegas at all as they have breakfast. 

From the looks of it, Changmin will be struggling with his hang over for some time, he tries not to chuckle when the younger man’s phone goes off and he flinches at the shrill sound of i