Summary: It hurts to be in his presence.
The yelp that came from the front door all but startled Ryeowook as he proceeded in trying not to drop his glass of milk in surprise. Suffice it to say, Ryeowook certainly did not expect to see Yehsung crumpled on the carpet by the entrance door, piss drunk and laughing like a loon. When Yehsung glanced up to meet his eyes, a grin split his face in half and he waved a hand.
"Ryeo, Ryeo, c'mere," the older boy whispered, giggling. Unconsciously starting to smile at Yehsung's lack of coherence, Ryeowook stepped up next to his friend and offered his hands, tugging the drunk boy to his feet. In return he got a silly smile and a stumble, resulting in Ryeowook having to catch him.
"I guess there're no objections in going to your room, right?" Ryeowook asked softly, but he didn't get an answer, unless Yehsung's faint giggle counted as one. "But be quiet, okay?" he held a finger up to his lips, and Yehsung followed suite.
After much tumbling and teetering, they both reached Yehsung's room in one piece. Ryeowook gently toed the door shut as he led the intoxicated boy to his bed. Once Yehsung was kneeling on his futon, Ryeowook began his mission in undressing him, starting with his jacket. Judging by the alcohol he could smell on Yehsung's breath, the other boy wouldn't be able to undress all by himself without falling out of bed.
A gigglesnort, and then a "Are my mittens on backwards?" from Yehsung.
The brunet shifted his eyes from the zipper of Yehsung's jacket to his mittened hands, which indeed donned said mittens backwards. Letting out a laugh and smiling, Ryeowook shook his head, reaching for the mittens before slipping off Yehsung's ski jacket. "As long as they kept you warm, I don't think it matters which direction they're on."
The jacket was tossed on the closest chair, and Ryeowook attended to Yehsung's button-up shirt, attempting to rid him of it so he could tuck the elder into the blankets.
"I don't know if anyone has ever told you this," Yehsung slurred, "but you're gorgeous when you smile. Actually, I'm think 'm going to have to encourage you to do it more often."
The words made Ryeowook falter in his unbuttoning task, but he just shook his head and blushed, unsure if this was the alcohol speaking, or if Yehsung was starting to sober up. "No," he offered in amusement, "I don't think anyone has." And suddenly, Yehsung bent over—more like flopped over—and buried his nose in Ryeowook's hair.
His next words were murmured very softly. There was no trace of amusement in his voice. "Sometimes I'm afraid someone is going to take you away from me. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and you won't be there." Ryeowook froze when Yehsung whimpered. "I don't want that to happen," he went on, "I don't, I don't. Please don't go away, Ryeo, please," Yehsung was chanting.
Pulling his hands away from the elder boy's long-unbuttoned shirt, Ryeowook dropped them onto Yehsung's legs, as if he wanted to offer some sort of comfort, no matter how intoxicated Yehsung was or wasn't.
"I'm not going anywhere, hyung," Ryeowook timidly answered.
"I promise." Leaving no more room for conversation, Ryeowook almost regretably leaned away from the touch, yanking off Yehsung's shirt and flinging it on top of the jacket behind him. "Now let's get you into bed." Both of them eventually got around to tucking Yehsung under his covers, safe from any more harm and alcohol.
There was a sigh from the elder's direction, and then he was raking his fingers along Ryeowook's arm. "You're not going to stay?"
"Hyung, I—" Ryeowook started uncertainly, and paused when he felt Yehsung's hands taking one of his. It made fireworks go off in the brunet's head, and then he was shaking it, holding Yehsung's hand up. "I shouldn't. You're drunk, okay? You just need—"
"So what?" Yehsung mumbled bitterly, yanking his hand away, but bringing it back to Ryeowook's face, not quite touching his skin. "It's not like I'm asking you to sleep with me." The hand trailed across the younger boy's jawline.
Looking pensive, Ryeowook furrowed his brow. "No, but that's how it might turn out. And I don't think I want to waste that time with you while you're drunk."
A light lit up in the elder's eyes. "Then—"
"Goodnight, Yehsung," Ryeowook whispered softly and moved to push himself from the floor, but Yehsung caught his wrist. Startled, he brought his other hand to catch himself before he hit the floor face-first.
"Can I at least have a goodnight kiss? Or a few?"
The offer was too tempting to refuse, and Ryeowook couldn't say no to the pout that now resided on his friend's face, so he exhaled quietly and leaned forward. Yehsung placed a finger on his own temple, as if leading a trail for Ryeowook to follow. Smiling, the brunet bent down and kissed his forehead gently. Then Yehsung's finger was on his cheek. Ryeowook hesitantly kissed him there too.
Yehsung dropped his finger onto his lips, and Ryeowook froze up. The action would probably lead them into something they didn't want to engage in, but slowly Ryeowook inched down and kissed him on the mouth as softly as he could.
The kiss in return was barely noticeable—in fact, their lips had barely even touched. As Ryeowook reclined back, he could see that Yehsung was drifting off, as if his kisses had lulled his friend to almost-sleep.
Figuring this was a good of a time as any, he abandoned his place by Yehsung's side and was about to switch off the lights in the room, until he heard the barely audible "I love you, Ryeo".
The butterflies from earlier that evening returned, and they swarmed in his stomach. Once again unsure, Ryeowook flipped the light switch off, but remained motionless in the doorway.
"I love you too, Yehsung," was the pain-filled answer to the slumbering boy, even though Ryeowook knew he couldn't be heard. And then without a second glance, he shut the door and pressed his back against the wood before heading off toward his own room just down the hall.