It’s quite the experience, he thought.
Taking a leak in the middle of the night on a retreat to an island off the peninsula, just for the sake of trying to get into a university for weirdos at the age of twenty-five.
It wasn’t really, pathetic — yet.
Taejoon finished what he had to do and was immediately startled by the sound of footsteps coming from behind him. They silence as soon as he waited to see if he could hear any joints pop, causing him to silently look around. Since being startled, he was thrown out of focus. It didn’t quite help that he was half-asleep, but everything began to look unfamiliar. Earlier, he made sure to remind himself that he was supposed to go back to his left.
But now, his left was no longer his left, nor was it his right — or was it?
He whipped his head around and began to walk to what he thought was his previous left. Taejoon looked behind him when he heard a joint crack, unless it came from in front of him ——
When he walked into a body, he jumped while letting out a godforsaken yelp and stumbled back. His heart was going a mile a minute and his eyes set upon another person, with the exact post-traumatic shocked expression that Taejoon had. He glared at the other as though he deserved an explanation for being scared to death after peeing in the woods.
going out at all had been the first mistake.
beer breath is tolerable until there's no other smell that seems to permeate the room—butter sticky and nauseatingly sweat. bring the claustrophobia-inducing arrangement into the picture and pit it against the promise of open sand, water, breeze, and it’s a losing battle before he can so much as will the energy to peel himself off the floor. after all, the body wants what the body wants, and he’d much rather have body-to-body that requires five feet of personal space and another half that won't drool on his shoulder.
bare foot and scuffed up from the heavy pre-gaming, he's sure to keep his steps quiet. there's no direction in mind, finds no need of it when all he needs is fresh air. but one thing always leads to another. funny how that happens, the body preceding brain, the brain preceding body. in his still-boozed daze, yejun connects the dots in the most arbitrary of paths.
for instance: there's a boat anchored to the docks that's named rhiannon and memory conjures the opening notes of acoustic guitar. she is like a cat in the dark and then, it loops for a bit, distorted, muffled, thin, thinner, thinning until it slips from his ear like a whisper. by then yejun's traveled a distance so far removed from the cabin grounds that he has to stop for a second and think. or think to the best of his ability. he taps the bark of the tree in front of him. when did that get here?
it's the faint rustle of leaves. the sinking feeling in his gut after. he retreats, slowly, back to who may be a partner in misery because he's too fixated on that fucking pine tree until—
yejun turns too quickly and "FU-"
his voice pitches into what's a freakishly high scream, but it cuts short the second his eyes match face to name. wait.
his gaze quickly narrows, scrutinizing him. "taejoon hyung?" off vice-cap duty, the honorific gets tacked on without delay. "what the hell are you doing down there?”