SOME NIGHTS - YUWIN

12:00 PM

The 12:00 alarm is what sends Sicheng into panic, his head colliding with the nearest countertop and making him wince.

Pain comes first. He can't tell if it's the hangover screaming in his brain, the cold air biting at his for some reason bare legs, or the newly created bump on his head.

Bare legs— bare— where are his pants? No, the better question is: why the hell isn't he wearing any pants?

It's until he sees Yuta next to him, shirtless and sleeping, that he pieces it all together. The previous hours seemed so fuzzy now. He recollects the feeling of longing he had gone through earlier, yet his memory cuts short like a switch-circuit being disassembled once he remembers climbing into the Japanese bartender's lap.

They couldn't have done anything. It just— no. He and Yuta? What if they...

"I didn't rape you, if that's what you're wondering." A hoarse voice eases him, thick with sleep and drowsiness prominent on his oh-so sharp features. Sicheng looks over at Yuta, who for such a dire situation, looks so collected. The boy's hair is a mess— Sicheng can only imagine what... caused his wild appearance.

"I'm sorry." Sicheng begins quickly, backing away from Yuta. "I didn't mean to, I—"

"It's fine. If anything, it's my fault." Yuta replies softly. "You were drunk and I...I should have stopped you. No— I tried to stop you. I really did. But you wouldn't budge. So, I'm sorry. For taking advantage of you like that. And letting that happen."

Sicheng pauses before speaking again, letting the words sink in. "Would it be bad if I said I..." Yuta watches him curiously. "If I l-liked it? Would that be wrong of me to say?"

"Not at all."

There's a silence. An awkward one, two almost strangers fishing for something to say to the other. There's so much to admit but...they're both too cowardly. Yuta opens his mouth to finally speak.

"Can I kiss you—"

"Please."

They kiss again.

For the next ten minutes. That's all they do.

Kiss and wonder what the hell they're trying to initiate.

- - -

"Shh, it's alright. The hail will stop soon."

Sicheng whimpers as more blocks of ice come crashing down against the roof, getting increasingly louder as he presses his face further into Yuta's chest.

After their rather long kissing session, the Japanese boy decided it would be better to put his shirt back on. Just looking at his bare chest made pink rise to Sicheng's face. As adorable as it was, Yuta decided to spare him the trouble.

He'd seen the boy flustered enough before.

"It's so-- it's so loud."  Sicheng complains. He fists the dark material of Yuta's dress-shirt with fear. Yuta honestly feels really bad for finding this cute.

"I know. Do you want to move away from it?"

Sicheng nods.

Yuta carefully scoops the frightened guitarist into his arms, supporting his legs and holding him close. The aftershocks of the alcohol become more and more distant with each step towards the backroom. Startling flickers of the power going on and off make Sicheng squirm, face tucked carefully into Yuta's neck. He's clingy, but Yuta finds himself enjoying it more than he probably should. Sicheng's legs fit almost perfectly around Yuta's waist, making him hold in ragged breaths and make his head spin. It's all happening again. Endearment, once again.

Not that he's complaining. 

It's...

It's nice to be with Sicheng again. 

- - -

They decided to put their jackets together to form a mattress of sorts, Sicheng's guitar case acting as a makeshift, double pillow for them to share. 

Sicheng hums and traces shapes on the ceiling. Yuta lays on his side, watching the beautiful boy with interest. 

This-- whatever it is-- makes Sicheng feel anything but himself. He doesn't know whether or not he likes the new personality yet. Though it seems like he's felt this all before.

When he says that, he means the affection, the shy love, and the adoration filled stares that radiate from Yuta's eyes. 

It's weird, though. Sicheng's never dated anyone. Ever. After his mother died, he began his life again. He was told that she had passed in a car-crash, one that also brutally injured the person in the car with her. Sicheng wishes that he knew who it was that was with her that night.

How much had he been missing out on, then, he wonders? This odd sensation of being wanted, being held, and being kissed. It feels so strangely familiar and Sicheng has no idea why. 

"Yuta?" Sicheng whispers. The Japanese bartender hums at his name as a form of acknowledgement. 

"Have you ever dated anyone?"

Yuta tenses up again, like a few hours ago when Sicheng asked him about work. The look on his face makes Sicheng worry for a minute that he's said something wrong, yet Yuta's hand is quick to dismiss it.

"Sorry, I--"

"No, it's okay." Yuta mumbles, fighting internally to bring his smile back. "I...I've dated someone."

This peaks Sicheng's interest, who mimics Yuta's position and presses closer to him. 

"Really? What were they like?"

"He was amazing." The bartender whispers. "I met him in high school. He was so cute, so happy, and just-- everything I ever looked for in a person. I'd mess with him all the time, he'd blush and giggle like it was the funniest thing in the world, and oh gosh, his smile..."

Yuta looks so entranced in his memory, that Sicheng silently begs him to keep talking.

"His smile was so beautiful. He was so beautiful. I found the courage to ask him out and well-- he agreed. We dated for months. I loved him more than anything. Just the way he spread his warmth to everyone around him, the way his grin made the world stop I--" Yuta pauses. "I loved him so much.

"All good things come to end, though. He and his mom were supposed to come to my house for a family gathering, but," Yuta closes his eyes, inhaling a sharp breath before letting it out. "The road was slippery. The car crashed and he, he--" Yuta hesitates.

"He...died."

"Oh, Yuta..." Sicheng utters, watching as Yuta frantically wipes his tears away, yet the flurry of it all comes rushing down his face like a broken dam. 

"Yuta, I'm so sorry. It's alright to cry-- I-- I bet he misses you."

Yuta musters a smile, eyes suddenly fleeting to Sicheng's worried expression, to his lips, to his nose, and to his wide eyes that glisten with concern. He knows that he shouldn't be crying, shouldn't be hiding any of this from Sicheng, but he can't do this right now. Not when everything is patching up by itself.

"I miss him, too."