Too Soon

Drink after drink, puff after puff, night after night, all to feel better. An unhealthy routine, but could San care? Did he ever?

Once upon a time.

San shook his head, black stringy locks moving with it. He didn't want to think about that bastard. That asshole who made him feel like he wasn't good enough. He changed his hair, his clothes, his job, lost friends and family along the line, but still he wasn't good enough.

Not until he was naked in a shit hotel.

But he loved that asshole.

God, San loved him. How could he not? His eyes, his smile, his voice, his skin, his touch... He missed it. No one was like him. Even if he cheated, its okay. San cheated too. They both were wrong. San didn't know how to make it right. San forgave him. but Wooyoung wasn't too hunky dory about the affair.

If he stared hard enough at the wall, the bumps formed an outline of a shape vaguely similar to a shoulder. He leaned against it, trailing his finger across the surface, mildly comforted by how sturdy it was.

He was drunk. So drunk.

And cold. San was cold.

He closed his eyes and scrunched his face at the thought of leaving his wall friend.

San lifted himself from the cold-tiled floor, the one he had been thrusted into a few hours ago, and shuffled around to pull his underwear on. Then he crawled around the floor shoving around some bottles and empty condom wrappers to reach the rest of his clothes. While doing this, one bottle tipped over and brown Jameson liquor spilt onto the floor. He stared at it.

The man laying in the bed groaned. "Not so much noise."

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up." San drawled fingering in the liquid in fascination. "But maybe you should. Your wife might come home soon."

That got the man up and running. "Then why the fuck are you still here? Get out!"

San looked up from the floor and tilted his head. "What? No goodbye kiss?" He dismissed the alcohol and got on all fours to crawl to the edge of the bed where long legs placed themselves firmly on the floor.

"I don't have time for your shit, San." San felt his mood shift.

"You had time last night, Mingi. You made time for it." San placed each palm on each of Mingi's knees as he bit his lip while the red-haired man rubbed the sleep out of his eye.

"That was different." He said ashamedly and stood up, shaking the ravenette off him. San stared after his very blessed friend as he began picking up the bottles from the floor and chucking it into a carrier bag.

"Was it now?" San smiled sadly, eyes crinkling and further smudging his dark make up. He stood up.

Mingi tied the bag and dumped it on the floor before he began pulling off his sheets. "Look, last night was fun and all, but now you have to leave. I've got matters to tend to." He walked past San to throw the sheets on the laundry basket, but the other stopped him by pulling his waist and wrapped his arms around his well-defined torso.

"No... Don't chase me away, please." Mingi was all he had left. He leant up and began mouthing at the column of Mingi's neck as he stood on his tip toes. Mingi let him. San trailed his hands across the hard planes of the back he wanted to scratch open. He sniffed. "Fuck me." His high was wearing off. "Fuck me again, Mingi. I want you." He wanted to forget.

"We can't keep doing this." Mingi sighed, but nuzzled his cheek against San's temple. The other pressed himself into his body. "It's not good."

"It is. So good. You're so good. You make me feel good. Please Mingi, make feel good again." He breathed out in little puffs, body shaking like a little leaf. "Please." He bit on his worried lip.