↱RIBS↲ ⇾seongjoong⇽

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No Way of Knowing What Time It Is

When he wakes again, Seonghwa has no way of knowing what time it is.

He's disoriented for a moment, but he remembers enough and can recognize enough from his surroundings to understand that he's in the hospital.

He's in the hospital, with an IV in him like he feared, and his hand is warm in Hongjoong's, who is asleep with his face smushed into the thin sheets of his hospital bed.

Wooyoung's passed out in a chair by the window, his head lolled to one side and his legs stretched out in front of him.

The seat next to him is empty but has Yunho's coat and scarf hanging over the back of it.

He starts crying again.

He did this.

He fucked all this up.

Wooyoung definitely has work early in the morning, he shouldn't be here sleeping in an uncomfortable chair, Yunho's got a class, and Hongjoong- and how the hell is he gonna pay this hospital bill?

God, if he'd handled himself better, this wouldn't have happened, he's such a burden to them all-

"Hyung?" Comes a small voice, to his left.

He hadn't noticed someone was there, but he turns his head to that side of the bed, and Jongho's sitting there looking pained and staring right at him.

"You're up," he croaks out, his voice sounding the way it does when he's trying vehemently not to cry.

"Jongho—" Seonghwa whispers, anything louder refusing to come out of his throat.

Jongho's eyes tear up too, and he grabs Seonghwa's free hand.

"Hyung, why didn't you—" he sniffles, searching Seonghwa's face, squeezing his hand.

"Why didn't you tell me it had gotten this bad? You've never gotten this bad before." His lower lip trembles.

He hasn't seemed this young in so long.

Seonghwa can only cry harder, his heart breaking, his mind in turmoil, and the tears run hot and heavy down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Jongho-yah." It crashes on him, suddenly, when he looks at Jongho.

How bad he's fucked up.

"I'm sorry."

"You..." Jongho grips his hand tighter, pulls himself closer to Seonghwa almost desperately.

"You're supposed to tell me when it gets like this, hyungie." He wipes his eyes on his sleeve, and he looks so small and young, like the little kid he grew up with in Jinju that Seonghwa grew up knowing— the kid who would push his bowl of dwaeji gukbap across the table to Seonghwa and tell him to 'eat more, hyung;' who would call Seonghwa handsome even if other boys would make fun of him for it; who would come over, let himself into Seonghwa's childhood bedroom, and hold him while he cried— even though he's twice Seonghwa's size in muscle alone now.

"You promised, hyungie."

He did promise.

Back when they were young, back when they were still in Jinju, back when Seonghwa was 'bad' and his dongsaeng had to look after him.

"When you go to Seoul, you have to take care of yourself."

They had been lying on their backs, in one of the grassy clearings at the park, smelling like bug spray and cheap beer.