That Type Of Love (Déja Vü)

Chapter Eleven : Knockout

Hyunjin is drunk. He almost knocked off the can of beers in front of him when he dropped it on the floor but managed to save himself before the beer spilled everywhere.  His friends were too occupied with their own bottles and beers to care, though he could tell one of them is trying his best not to laugh at him. Hyunjin would have been more mad if he wasn't so focused on getting to bed. Seungmin was right behind him, a little red faced and a bit unsteady on his feet. He would normally tease Hyunjin about getting drunk at the same time as him or even just be offended by his friend's lack of control but Seungmin did the opposite. He was more wasted than Hyunjin is now and it’s making both boys feel slightly nauseous.

They stumble together while they try to head out inside, laughing at their own clumsiness. Hyunjin does his best to help Seungmin up the stairs, which turns out to be difficult since he’s taller than the boy and Seungmin’s drunkenly trying to hold onto something to balance him down. It takes a lot of effort and eventually they make it upstairs, only barely. Once there, they collapse into Hyunjin’s bedroom. The boy closes the door to prevent anyone from walking outside and locking them in the dark room. Seungmin sits down on the floor by Hyunjin’s desk, leaning back against the wall. Hyunjin falls face first on his bed after kicking off his shoes.  He’s never this far gone in all the times he’s drank before. It was probably because they had eaten some sort of food earlier that made him feel like he’d float away if he drank anymore. That had to be it. It must have been that. Seungmin has never been good in alcohol. In fact, he had gotten so drunk once he had been dared to drink ten can of beers without complaining about it later.

Apparently, he hadn't learned anything from it. It was hilarious how much worse he got afterwards than the previous night.
Meanwhile the other two, Jisung and Minho, were left behind at the back of the house. The older was helping Jisung out because he was vomiting and seemed like he might pass out any moment.

Minho was standing nearby, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically and talking to him about something or other while Jisung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared up at him. It looked as if the younger was about to faint on him. It looked scary as hell. Minho was always ready to catch people like that. “Don’t go unconscious Jisungie, we haven’t finished yet,” he said worriedly. “Come on. Drink some water. You can do it, it’s okay. Just take it slowly so you don't choke.”

Minho put the bottle close to his face and waited for Jisung to drink it. The boy took several deep gulps and coughed, his eyes closing briefly and a frown forming on his lips. “See, easy, right? No problem.” Jisung gave him a nod and then started to cough again. He kept coughing until finally there was nothing coming out except a few tears streaming down his face.

Minho tried very hard not to cry himself, instead choosing to offer Jisung a tissue that he gladly took. “There you are,” Minho sighed in relief. He gently patted Jisung’s shoulders and moved to sit next to him. “Now. Are you okay? Do you want me to get you something to eat?
Something sweet maybe. Or a glass of warm milk? I think you drank more than your share so now it’s time for us to finish drinking. Come on, let’s get you home.” Minho stood up and picked Jisung up in bridal style and carried him out of the back door. He set him down on his feet a fair distance from the house, still holding him carefully to keep him steady, and started to walk him towards the street where the car was parked. Jisung was clinging onto his shirt like a child, his grip weak and frail and not strong enough to support the both of them.

Minho held Jisung’s free arm around his shoulder and helped him to the car and into the passenger seat, sitting down next to him after doing so. Jisung buried his face against Minho’s shirt. Minho smiled fondly and started driving. He would be taking the short trip to Jisung’s apartment. It would only take them half an hour max. The ride was peaceful and quiet, only interrupted by the soft sound of cars passing them and the occasional chatter of birds flying past. Jisung’s head rested on Minho’s shoulder, breathing steadily.