Just a Game | Eugene Lee Yang x Reader fanfic

Mistakes.

When I got back to the office, I went back to doing research on the three decided upon pitches, focusing on the main one, but trying to get enough ideas and information on the other two, so it would be just a simple "okay, you don't like my main one, here's a very general, not fleshed out other idea." 

The group chat came back for us to figure out a time and place for drinks. Eugene and I decided to call a truce and drink responsibly that night, just have a drink or two and mostly enjoy the atmosphere and company. We even invited some of the others that we hung out with, instead of just being the TGs. 

After work, I headed home to shower and change again, gladly being able to take my own car tonight since we weren't really planning on getting drunk. I went for ripped cut off jean shorts, with panty house that had it so it looked like I was wearing a thigh-high garter belt, along with a black tank top and leather jacket.  I pulled on short booties and accessorized, before heading out. 

We met up at the bar, celebrating and had a few drinks, though we had a little more than we anticipated, and everything kind of went black.

---

Waking up the next morning hurt. A lot. My head was pounding, and I could tell I had a hangover from hell. Everything I could remember was a blur, and that wasn't much. To be safe, I checked next to me to make sure there was no one there, and let out a sigh of relief when I saw there wasn't, nor did it look like anyone had been there besides myself. I checked my phone, seeing I had a text from Ned saying he made sure he got me home safely, and that my car would be at the bar and it would be fine since he talked to someone who worked there, and they assured him drunk people's cars got left there all the time. I sent him a thank you text, reminded him he was a fantastic friend, and then stumbled my way into the bathroom to get some medicine and brush my teeth. 

Looking in the mirror was a nightmare. My makeup was sort-of still on, just smudged everywhere, my hair was a wild mess, and I looked like a member of the walking dead. I took some ibuprofen, before starting to wash off my face when I noticed something.

Oh no.

A dark purple mark was on my neck, and even through my hungover eyes, I could tell it was a hickey. Oh god, who gave me a hickey? As I started to think about it, it started to come back to me.

(flashback to previous night)

Excitement and nerves caused me to drink more than one or two, and I hadn't eaten since lunch, since I figured we'd have a drink or two, dance a little and then get a late dinner together, so obviously the alcohol hit me harder than usual. There was normally a routine when I went out drinking to prevent a hangover, food being one of them. 

After being a few drinks in, I went out to the dance floor, moving my body and having a good time with the buzz. 

When Rude Boy by Rihanna came on, I made my way over to Eugene, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, dancing closely with him. He seemed a little surprised at first but relaxed and I felt his hands slip around my waist as he danced closely. 

The dancing was intimate, our faces only a few inches from each other and almost no distance between our bodies, which swayed in time with the music. 

In a moment of bravery (or stupidity, looking back at it), I leaned up and pressed my lips to his, kissing him deeply. Just as when I came over to dance on him, he took a moment to be surprised, before reciprocating. It didn't take long for the kissing to turn into heated making out, hands exploring each other's bodies. When I pulled back enough to catch my breath, he took the opportunity to move his lips along my jawline and neck and then creating the beautiful purple mark that graced my neck now. 

I couldn't really remember what caused us to stop or when, but I knew it was before anything got too serious, or either of us got worked up to a point of no return. I did vaguely remember Ned helping me into his car, and making sure I got to my room okay. 

(End Flashback)

Oh god. I'd made out with Eugene while I was drunk. Things were going well, and we'd gotten away from the flirting, and were just really good friends. Was it just because we were drunk, or was there more there? I took my head and grabbed my phone again, hitting the button to call Ned. 

"Morning, Honor," he greeted after the second ring.

"Oh my god, what did I do last night?" I asked, him on speaker, my head in my hands, both from humiliation and pain. 

"How much do you remember?" He asked, and I could hear just a small amount of amusement in his voice, but mostly just trying to be a good friend.

I groaned, running my fingers through my hair. "Drinking way too much, then decided for some stupid reason that it was a good idea to make out and grind up on Eugene," I muttered.

"So the most important stuff," he concluded.

"Ugh, what do I do, Ned? Things were going well. What does this even mean? Does he actually like me? Do I like him?" I whined a bit, trying to figure out what to do.

"I think you two need to sit down and talk. The sooner the better, especially if he's gonna be your senior for your shoot," he said. I told them about that last night, and they were fine and understood. 

I let out a sigh at that. "Do you think I should do it before work, or wait till we have a bit of time to get over this hangover and do it at lunch?" I asked.

"Eugene normally doesn't get hangovers much, so it'd be safe for him, but it's up to you how you feel," he explained. "I need to shower from work, you gonna be okay?" he asked. 

I nodded, despite him not being able to see me. "Yeah. I'm gonna text him in a few," I said. "Thanks for being wonderful, as always," I added before we hung up. 

It took a few minutes to get up the courage to text Eugene and ask if he wanted to grab coffee before work. I didn't want to be distracted during my meeting, and if I was going to need to change seniors, I needed to know before it as well.

I tossed my hair into some messy space buns/panda buns, added a little cover-up and mascara to make myself look semi-presentable, tossing on something that looked nice enough for the meeting later, but didn't require a lot of work and would still be comfortable.

Eugene agreed to coffee, and we decided on the same coffee shop as the first time. I Ubed to the bar since it wasn't far from the office, and drove my car down, parking it in the lot and walked over to the cafe. Given the extra trip I took, he was there first, two drinks waiting, as per usual.

"Hey,"  I said, hoping not to seem too awkward as I sat down, taking a sip of my coffee.

"Hey," he said, watching me, and I tried not to flush under his gaze. "How do you feel?"

 "Like I would much rather be curled up in bed, buried under the covers, but I have an important meeting to go to in two hours," I sighed, resting my head on the table, enjoying the cold feeling. "How about you?" I mumbled, not wanting to be insensitive.

"A little bit of a headache, but it's not too bad," he answered. 

I decided to pull myself into a sitting position, leaving my dignity on the table, and tried to stop procrastinating. "So, uhm, how much do you remember about last night?" I asked.

"The majority. I was sober enough to drive myself home," he answered.

"I was thinking... We should probably talk about what happened," I murmured, so not wanting to do this. Crawl under the covers and sleep for a few days? Yes, that would be nice. 

"We probably should."