The FIrst 72 Hours

Chapter 23: - Time of Need -

{tw: mentions of drug use, SA, violence, bad writing}

The impromptu meeting under the bridge had swiftly devolved into an all-out booze and drug binge, courtesy of the girl with braids' loaded backpack (who's name had yet to stick within Jisung's intoxicated mind). Regaining sense in his newly set boundaries at least temporarily, he had refused to partake in any of his old vices and instead stuck with... Well, whatever it was that he was currently smoking.

As expected, the substance left him airy and giggly. His body felt sluggish, but in the best, most relaxing way possible. Following a brief giggle-attack, the pipe fell unceremoniously from his numbed fingers, sprinkling the burnt substance over the concrete between his feet. "Oopsies," he mumbled belatedly, nearly falling forward onto his face as he attempted to retrieve the glass instrument. Hyunjin - apparently sightly more 'with it' than he - just barely stopped Jisung's small form from hurling forward with a firm hand clasped over his shoulder. Hazy, unfocused eyes blinked up at the redhead as he hummed quizzically.

"You almost busted your pretty face," he teased before helping him slouch back atop the milk crate and refilling the pipe for him. "Your sugar daddy probably wouldn't appreciate if I let you get hurt," he added, snorting when Jisung pouted up at him as he lifted the pipe to take a hit.

"Not m'sugar daddy... m' husband," he slurred, goofy smile blooming across his dazed features at the prospect of being married to Minho. He wasn't really, but he secretly hoped to be someday...

Oh, right. Minho.

Jisung figured he should probably wrap up the little reunion so that he could get back home in time to shower off the stench of the various substances surrounding him. He took a long drag and sighed heavily, allowing the smoke to billow out away from the group. They were talking about something, but what, he wasn't so sure.

Despite all being camped out within a close proximity, it was as if the others' voices were approaching from a great distance.

Wanting to top off his high before he departed, Jisung nursed the glassware between his lips until his hands were too shaky to reliably hold it there. He set it aside, this time without spilling it, and attempted to tune back into whatever conversation was happening beside him until he could find a good time to announce his departure.

A while later, Hyunjin paused his animated rant to glance over when he noticed Jisung start nodding off. The redhead laughed at first, but when he lost consciousness and slumped onto the concrete, it was no longer funny. He knelt down and shook his shoulder. "Oh shit, dude, you good?"

He was definitely not good.

"Ah, fuck."

——

Changbin's otherwise stern expression immediately lightened when he spotted the other doctor enter the cozy cafe they'd decided to meet at, a jingle of the bell on the door signaling his arrival. Seungmin waved Minho over from where he sat beside the other man, a soft smile adorning his puppy-like features.

Minho slid into the booth across from his colleagues and friends, uttering a less than chipper hello. Seungmin and Changbin shared a brief look, both with sets of brows knit together, before the latter reached over and lay his hand atop the elder's free hand. Upon noticing his tempestuous appearance and the stiffened grip on his cellphone, his concern grew. "Hey, you okay, man? Something wrong?"

"Ah, yeah, just... Just Jisung," he muttered in response, setting his cellphone down to rub the stress from his face. Several texts and calls of his had gone unread now, which wasn't common behaviour amongst the duo. It was probably nothing, but Minho couldn't quell, nor ignore, the swell of worry pitted deep within his stomach since that morning.