Moral of the Story || seongsang · 2ho

4. I'll always love you

Yeosang woke up with a headache and puffy eyes, still in his clothes. Pulling the blankets closer, he could smell coffee wafting upstairs to him.

This was enticing, but the room was cold, and his eyes were sore. But his mouth and throat. . . I need water.

He debated, and debated, but was still in bed. He looked up at a knock to the door.

"C-come in!" He cringed at his own scratchy voice.

"Good morning, love. I brought you some ibuprofen and warm water." Yunho smiled holding up the aid in his hands.

Yeosang mumbled a "thank you" before downing the pills. Heat from the water seeped through to his palms from the mug.

"Want to come down? I made coffee~"

Yeosang nodded in response but "in a second, I'll wash up and be down. Five minutes."

Walking to the bathroom, he saw himself in the mirror; he saw the soul next to his eye and sighed again. Thought of Seonghwa again. Felt sick again.

After washing, he headed down, and in contradiction to common knowledge, it was thankfully warmer on the first floor.

"What kind of coffee do you want? I'm having an americano."

Walking to grab mug, Yeosang responded, "I'll have one too, but do you have syrup?"

"Yep, top shelf in the pantry."

Yeosang reached the syrup, on his toes, and sentimentally added four pumps to his cup.

Awkward silence followed; they hadn't talked since his confession last night. But Yeosang was prepared for the worst.

"Yeosang, I, uh, I have some questions? About what you said last night. Well, really one question, that might have follow ups."

He nodded, trying not to grimace.

"When you say cheated, you mean you slept with-"

Yeosang's eyes widened and head shot up. "NO! No, no, no." Shaking his head, "Ew, Uncle, you know I'm not into that. Even if I was into that type of- uh-- action, I would hope I wouldn't go that far by mistake, even if I had been drinking." Now he really was grimacing.

But Yunho sighed in relief. Good; better than I feared.

"So when you say cheated. . .?"

". . . I made out with some guy."

Nodding his head, Yunho tried to think of how to help. The boy obviously regrets it. Desperately. But paired with his mental health, this probably makes it all worse.

"Why did you do that?"

"Ugh! I don't even know. Really, Yunho, I have no idea. I wasn't thinking at all. It didn't even have a reason. It was San's party, I'd been tipsy, caught up in the music- which isn't trying to be an excuse, I just- honestly it had no forethought."

He looked up into Yunho's eyes then groaned again, head back in his own hands.

"Yunho," he whined, "if you could've seen the look on his face, I've never felt so sick before."

His uncle raised a brow, "Who's face?"

"Seonghwa. . . He came back later that night. Apparently Eomma didn't need as much as he thought."

Oh. "So Seonghwa saw?"

Another nod.

"How do you feel?"