Wooyoung wakes up with a pounding headache. If that were the extent of it, he could deal. But his mouth tastes foul, too, and his stomach is churning and twisting and making this gross guttural sound. There's this horrible thumping, too, that seems to jolt him every few seconds. He groans and rolls over, only to find San in the middle of the room, doing fucking jumping jacks. "You're satanic," Wooyoung moans. "Cut it out." San keeps jumping. "Why, is it bothering you?"
"Is it going to bother you when I wrap my hands around your throat?" Wooyoung counters. He reaches for his extra pillow, but it's fallen on the floor. It takes so much effort to grab it that he wants to cry, but he manages to get it over his head. And San keeps jumping. "San. Stop. I'm dying." "Do you remember," San says conversationally, like he's not still working out. He's hardly even breathless, "that time I passed out on the floor and you woke me up to Call Me Maybe? Or that time when I'd done all those tequila shots, and you wouldn't stop clicking your damn fucking pen?"
Vaguely, yes. That's not the full list of things Wooyoung's done to irritate San when he had a hangover. That's not fair, though. Wooyoung doesn't ever drink; San's always partying. Shouldn't he get this one free pass? "Please." "Still got... another fifteen minutes of my workout," San says. "You're just going to have to deal with it." Blindly, Wooyoung searches on the desk beside him. His hand curls around a pencil, and he throws it in the general direction of San's grunting. "I hate you. Really. I honestly, truly fucking hate you." "Mutual," San says. "Glad we had this talk."
The rest of the morning is spent like that. Wooyoung tries to sleep and not leak brain matter onto his pillows through the cracks in his skull, and San makes as much noise as possible. Eventually Wooyoung gives up and stomps out of the room with his shower bag. The warm water doesn't do nearly as much as he needs it to, but at least he doesn't smell like beer and sweat anymore.
His room is empty when he gets back. He considers trying to fall asleep, but he figures he wouldn't manage it anyway. Instead he drops his stuff off, pulls on a sweater over his shirt and sweats, and heads to the common room.
Mingi and Yunho are already there, curled up on the couch in front of the TV, watching cooking shows. "Why are you watching this?" Wooyoung complains. On screen, the woman adds what looks like a pound of butter to some sort of sauce. Ugh. "I don't even want to think about food." "That's 'cause you're hungover, bro," Yunho says weakly. He's got his head in Mingi's lap, and Mingi's petting his hair slowly. It looks nice; Wooyoung's a little jealous. He wants someone to pet his hair when he's hungover. "You need to eat something, though. You'll feel better if you do." Wooyoung's stomach growls, but bile rises in his throat when he thinks about actually eating anything. "I'm good. And I'm not going down to the dining hall." Mingi stands up, ignoring Yunho's sound of protest. "I'll make you a bagel," he says. "You'll feel better. Trust me." Wooyoung waves him off. Maybe a bagel would be okay. His stomach doesn't exactly flip at the sound of it, and he's not about to throw up.
As soon as Mingi's gone, Yunho changes spots, turning so his head is now in Wooyoung's lap, but he's got another thing coming if he thinks Wooyoung's going to coddle him the way Mingi does. "You feel pretty shitty, huh?" Yunho asks. Wooyoung shrugs. He does, but it's more bearable now. He wishes he'd gotten another hour of sleep, though. Or that he'd put his foot down a little harder last night. He's still got to finish with his paper, and now he has to do it while feeling exhausted and vaguely nauseas. "Bit, yeah." "How did that even happen?" Yunho wonders. "You were sipping Coke, last time I checked." Yunho shifts under him, mind whirring. It's a little foggy, but he can still remember. "Beer bong," he says quietly. "Hongjoong and San asked me to play." "How'd you manage that without the two of you leaping across the table at each other?" Wooyoung flicks him on the arm and makes a face. "I don't know. I was bored. Seemed like a challenge, and I couldn't not agree to it." And maybe it had been fun. Just a little. Not worth how he feels today, though.
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My Significant Bother - WooSan
FanfictionWooyoung and San are roommates who really don't like each other. What happens when their arguments go too far?