Happier Days

Chapter 1: Anger, Then Forgiveness

Youngjae awoke to a burning in his ass and a nauseous feeling.

Great.

As he realized that yes, he was going to throw up (and soon) and yes, he needed to get out of bed, he rolled over and the rolling in his stomach nearly nade him barf right there.

He threw the covers off of him, standing up.

Only to double over with his hand pressed to his gut.

He slowly made his way to the and threw the lid open, wincing as the pain intensified.

The sting was the least of his worries now, though.

The bile substance forced it's way from his stomach, up his throat, and through his mouth.

He retched over the toliet until he was dry-coughing, no more food or liquid left in him to regurgitate.

And now he was starving.

He closed the lid and flushed the toilet.

The bathroom smelled absolutely horrible, so he frabbed the can of air freshener that was always present on the shelf above the toilet, and drenched the bathroom with the spray.

It only helped a little.

As he put it back in it's place, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His face was red from what he had just gone through, but it was way more than that.

There were hickies scattered everywhere on his skin, some dark red, others brighter, while some were purplish. (He swore he saw a yellow one as well.)

He looked like a goddamn mosaic.

His eyes also had dark rings underneath them, a result of getting almost no sleep last night.

Im Jaebum. Fucking Im Jaebum.

Last night, Jaebum's dad had ordered that they go on a date.

So they did.

Over the course of the meal, they both had drunk way to much soju and JB had been as horny as hell.

He didn't remember the exact details, but JB had basically drove them home as fast as he could, dragged him to his room, and proceeded to fuck him into the mattress.

Unprotected.

Which explained the agony in his ass.

That son of a bitch.

He glared at himself in the mirror for a while, cursing JB, then went to get dressed.

He chose long pants and a turtleneck which covered up all the hickies except one on his hand (he didn't even know why there was one there).

He'd just have to hide it as well as he could.

Makeup?

He realized that was probably the only option he had.

Seriously though, why was there one on his hand?!

As he rumaged through his makeup drawer, he tried to figure which one would match his skin tone.

He was pale, although not as pale as one of his old friends, Suga.

He swore that Suga never even went outside.

That or he had a skin problem.

He had a feeling it was because all he did was sleep.

He forced his thoughts back to the makeup.