“I think you’re my favorite person.” Shit. Wu hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But something about seeing Mako, stiff posture made loose by the second bottle of plum wine, lamplight catching on his laughing face, allowed the thought to slip out. Mako’s confused face should have interrupted his train of thought, should have snapped him back to reality, but…
“You are my favorite person. You are always so nice to me and I love being around you. I want you to be happy all the time and I want to be the one to make you happy. I’m rambling but I’m just so in love with y—“
Wu woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a crick in his neck from sleeping on Mako’s couch, the stale aftertaste of wine and regret in his mouth. He heard a low groan coming from Mako’s room followed by the soft sounds of Mako moving around his room, clearly as miserably out of it as Wu.
As Wu shifted to sit up, a wave of horror washed over him. Oh spirits, what had he done? What had he said? Alcohol soaked memories of last night fought their way to the forefront of his mind. Why had he told Mako any of that? Months and years of pushing down how he felt, just to confess his love over a couple bottles of too cheap wine? Shit. Well? Maybe it’s not the end of the world? Wu tried to reason. Maybe Mako will feel the same or at least let him down gently? Maybe anything would be better than having to keep choking this secret down?
Mako wakes up with a splitting headache and the bitter aftertaste of cheap wine and regret in his mouth. And memories that become too hazy to make out after opening the second bottle.
