Sleepless Creatures || JOHNYONG

42 🥀 Things to Clear Up

Johnny woke up feeling energised and focused, and then guilty when it sunk in why. It was early, the sun just showing through the blinds. He checked on Taeyong, who was fast asleep, figuring he had around two hours before the teen started to stir. So Johnny went to his gym room, wondering if he could make a couple of hours last an eternity rather than face up to what he'd done.

He told himself, however, that whatever Taeyong threw at him, whatever he accused him of, any blame and derision, he deserved all of it.

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Taeyong's POV:

Taeyong stretched, the sheets shifting around him. 

Without opening his eyes, he reached his hand over until he found his phone and groaned when he finally did. It was 7:30 a.m. He let the phone drop and scrubbed his palms down his face. He was actually surprised he'd woken up without the alarm doing it for him, considering how much he recalled drinking.

At least he had plenty of time to get ready for school. Vaguely remembering catching an uber home, Taeyong sat up, then got out of bed and shuffled out of the room, feeling his way out rather than opening his eyes.

So far, he didn't feel as horrible as he expected, which was strange, as he was painfully familiar with how hangovers affected him. Still just a little bit gross, but not vomit-inducing gross.

When he almost smashed into a wall where his bathroom door would normally be, Taeyong opened his eyes.

For once, just as a quirky little novelty, could he wake up in his own house?

What concerned him, even more, was that this corridor looked annoyingly familiar. Taeyong considered his options for a while, but then lumbered to the kitchen.

Johnny's back was to him on the other side of the benchtop, and though he was dressed in trousers and a white silk business shirt, his hair was wet like he'd just come from the shower.

For a moment they just stood there; Taeyong not moving, Johnny clearly pretending he didn't know the other was there. Eventually, the older man's shoulders slumped, and he turned around, leaned back against the cupboard and crossed his arms. And looked at the ground.

Was he waiting for Taeyong to speak first?

What the hell did he say? Why the fuck did you have to say all of that and make me feel like shit? Why did most of it have to be true? Taeyong knew how much he could trouble people if he wasn't careful. I didn't need you to point that out.

I'm sorry for not telling you about the hunters.

I'm sorry you probably felt like I was tricking you.

I'm sorry you hurt yourself on a weapon I brought that can kill vampires.

"How did I get here?" was what he asked instead.

Johnny looked up at him, seeming surprised for some reason. "You don't remember?"

What was that supposed to mean? Remember what?

"Taeyong," said Johnny. "I'm-I'm so sorry. I have no excuses. I shouldn't have done any of that, the bite, the— I don't know if there's anything I can do to make up for it— "

As Taeyong listened to what sounded bizarrely like a gushing panic attack, his mind came to a scratching halt and then rewound like a played-back vinyl.