Rating: PG
Word Count: 977 words
Prompt: "we both got in separate bar fights downtown and now we’re waiting in the ER comparing stories!AU"

“You look like ”

“Ditto”

Chanyeol chuckles.

“Your nose looks pretty banged up,” he starts again; “is it painful?”

“, yeah,” the other man groans, sliding down a little in his seat and leaning his head against the wall gingerly, “I think it’s broken or something. And I might have a concussion.” 

He tilts his head to take in the black eye Chanyeol is sporting and his messed up lip. Noticing the way he’s got a hand supporting his other arm, he nods understandingly.

“Messed up your shoulder?” he asks knowingly, a small smile playing at his lips. 

“Dislocated,” Chanyeol explains, shifting on his seat to find a more comfortable position, wincing when the movement jars his shoulder. “Got into a tiff with some guys at a bar.”

“No kidding!” the man looks crossed between surprised and amused, “Me too!”

Chanyeol barks out a laughs, eying him in surprise, “Well we've both had one hell of a night.”

The man laughs, offering out a hand, “I’m Jongin.”

Chanyeol stares at his hand for a moment, contemplating the angle he would have to turn to shake it without feeling knives in his shoulder. Jongin notices the hesitation, belatedly realizing the issue and he drops his hand with an awkward laugh, an unmistakable flush colouring his cheeks as he uses his hand to rub the back of his head shyly instead. It’s oddly endearing, Chanyeol finds; a strange thing to be focusing on when he’s got a painfully dislocated shoulder and he’s sitting next to a man with a broken nose. 

“Well, looks like we’re gonna be here a while,” Chanyeol sighs, eyeing the surprisingly large number of people queued  up in the waiting room, even at this late hour; “Wanna tell me how you ended up with the punching bag role on this fine evening?”

Jongin laughs, his face seeming to light up, eyes crinkling into crescents even as he winces in pain from the movement of his nose. 

“I’m a bit of a sore loser, I guess,” Jongin admits, flushing even harder at his confession.  “We were watching the game on the big screen and my team was losing and I-" he pauses, breaking off to sigh at himself, “I turned off the TV the second the other team was about to score,” he says finally, his eyes lowered in shame, staring down at his hands regretfully. 

“You- oh my god,” Chanyeol dissolves into a fit of laughter, half wincing at the way it jostles his shoulder. 

“That’s terrible,” he manages finally, chuckling good naturedly in a way that gets Jongin laughing at his own embarrassment too. 

“It is,” he admits, his laughter fading into a sigh. Turning to Chanyeol, he asks;

“So, what about you?  How’d you end up looking like roadkill?”

“Ah, such a tale!” Chanyeol starts dramatically. “Apparently I get pretty obnoxious when I’m drunk and winning at something.  I nailed a poker game and scored the big bucks out of some guys who didn’t appreciate the way I celebrate my victory.”

He sniffs, mock affronted, like he’s some poor misunderstood soul.

“That’s it?” Jongin exclaims incredulously, “They beat the crap out of you because you won?”

“Well, I might have made some crude suggestions about my . They definitely didn't like that. Pretty sure I whipped it out at one point, actually,” Chanyeol admits, scrunching his forehead as he tries to recall his exact behaviour.

Jongin is doubled over with laughter beside him, his eyes scrunched into crescents as he slaps his knee.  He tries hard to keep a straight face to avoid hurting his nose but his laughter peals out helplessly.

“I’m surprised they didn’t string you up to the ceiling,” he sniggers, shoulders shuddering.

“I was lucky to get out with my intact,” Chanyeol snorts, only half joking even as they both wheeze with uncontrollable laughter again. 

The conversation flows easily after that, introducing themselves properly to one another, chipping in with personal details here and there as they chat. 

It’s unclear how much time passes but it’s finally Jongin’s turn to be seen by one of the doctors and he stands up, hesitant to go in. 

“So I guess I’ll see you around?” he says, raising a hand to wave at him. “It was really nice meeting you, Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, it was great!” Chanyeol agrees, waving back.

Turning on his heel, Jongin marches towards the nurse waiting for him and disappears into the room. 

His turn comes soon enough, another nurse appearing to call for the next patient waiting to see a doctor. Popping his shoulder back into place is decidedly an experience he hopes he never has to go through again in his life. 

Shuffling out of the doctor’s room with his arm wrapped in a sling, Chanyeol sighs, vowing never to get into a bar fight again. 

“Well you look mildly better.”

Whipping he head up, Chanyeol is surprised to see Jongin still there, sitting on one of the plastic seats again with gauze wrapped over the bridge of his nose.

“You’re still here?” 

“Yeah, I–”  Jongin laughs a little nervously, rubbing the back of his head again, “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to grab a bite to eat? With me?”

Chanyeol grins at the hopeful expression on his face.

“I know a great 24 hour diner not far from here,” he suggests, prompting Jongin to get to his feet jubilantly. They fall into step with each other as they step out through the sliding doors of the emergency into the fresh 4am air. 

“So, meal’s on you?” Chanyeol jokes, boldly nudging Jongin with his good elbow. 

“Not a chance,” he retorts with a snort, “Maybe we should tussle over it.”

“Know any good bars we could go do that in?”

Jongin’s laughter is loud and bright in the silence of the early morning.