Chapter Text
Sound isn’t much of a drinker. He has an image to uphold as a star, after all. But besides that, he just doesn’t see a reason in consuming alcohol. Why would anyone in their right mind drink something that would give you less control over your senses and emotions? Sounds like literal hell for Sound.
But his fellow Chinzillas are the living proof of someone wanting exactly that. He guesses it makes them feel more on top of the world than they are feeling now already. Some of them are letting loose, while others drink to forget or suppress.
In his Highschool years, Sound drank a beer or two in the evening to help him fall asleep. Because this was the only thing that could get him drowsy enough to fell asleep within one hour instead of his usual 4+ hours.
But there were moments where Sound, who usually declined alcohol, would get wasted to forget and suppress. Never in front of his bandmates though. And especially not in the presence of one specific bandmate of his.
Sound is already afraid of not having his emotions in control, but having the possibility of alcohol making him lose control completely of his rational mind, is terrifying. It’s just too much of a risk. And he can’t risk this. Because he’s afraid.
That’s why Sound is sitting on the expensive couch in Tinn’s living room, chewing on the straw of the almost empty ‘mocktail‘ Por prepared for him, and observing his bandmates and Tiw dancing and jumping around the room to loud music.
Tinn is sitting next to Sound with a fond smile on his face and eyes glued to the bandleader who is gleefully spinning around while cheering. Yuck.
Sound rolls his eyes and takes another sip through the chewed-up straw. When nothing comes out, he just sticks the straw into the cut up strawberry at the bottom of the glass and gets it out to chew on that, followed by a few ice cubes that he probably shouldn’t be chewing on.
Sound sets the glass aside and lets out a sigh. He plops to the side to lay against the arm rest and raises his legs up to properly lay down. Tinn instinctively helps Sound lay his legs onto Tinn’s thighs, so that can Sound stretch out on the couch.
“Thanks” Sound mumbles.
It’s weird how things have changed in the past couple of years. Who would have thought that Tinn, his former rival (and unfortunately first crush), would willingly be his leg rest.
Sound lets his head turn to the side and catches Win look at Tinn’s hands placed comfortably over Sound’s shins after he has moved the guitarist‘s legs to lay across his lap.
Phat must have said something to Win, because he adverts his eyes and follows the drummer into the kitchen. A few moments later, Phat comes holding a bottle and shouting along with the song he must have put into the queue.
“Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots!”
The others shout with him, and Sound shares a look and amused smile with Tinn who is mouthing the words along with them.
A few steps behind Phat, follows Win, holding a tray with empty shot glasses, staring threatingly at them to telepathically order them to stay on the tray and not tumble down as Win himself is a tiny bit wonky on his feet. Still, Win manages to hold them steady while Phat fills them up and hands everyone their shot glass. Win turns his head to look at Sound who’s still laying on the couch and watching his bandmates.
Win glances down at the leftover shots and up to the guitarists eyes. Sound gives him a tiny shake with his head, declining the shot from across the room. Win nods before adverting his eyes and puts the two shots, one after the other, between his lips and throwing his head back. Sound watches Win’s Adam’s apple move and Win’s face scrunch up at the alcohol. Soon after, Phat fills everyone’s glasses up again to keep their celebration going.
Gun walks over to the couch multiple times trying to pull his boyfriend and best friend to join in the dancing, and Sound gave him the satisfaction a few times, joining his bandmates in dance and chants for a few minutes before returning to the couch like a safe haven.
This repeats for a few rounds, just like the rounds of shots, and his bandmates become increasingly drunk. If you assume Gun and Por to be the only clingy drunks out of the bunch, you are highly mistaken.
Phat becomes even more annoying then he normally is and tells everyone how much he loves them and how happy he is for their band and their strong bond that could never be broken. As if he has forgotten that he suggested disbandment three times today already before they had their most successful gig and win of their career at the competition earlier.
Yo also becomes very emotional and clingy, hugging everyone out of joy and then also because he’s sad from missing Nook. He saw her less than two hours ago and texts her every few minutes, so Chinzilla is used to that behaviour, but drunk Yo is even more straight and in love than he already is.
Sound wonders if he would be like that if he’d be in a relationship.
He glances over at Win, who is currently being hugged by Yo crying and whining about missing Nook. Win has given up trying to get out of Yo’s surprisingly strong arms, and has resorted to patting his head and even pressing a reassuring kiss on top of it. Sound’s lips form a smile at Win’s sweet gesture.
And then their eyes meet. Sound drops his smile. Win, drunk and feeling provoked by Sound just randomly staring at him, sticks out his tongue. What a child.
Sound returns the gesture with a middle finger. Win starts grinning and raises his middle finger up as well. And if there’s anything that Sound can’t reist, it’s Win’s genuine smile or grin. Especially the one where little wrinkles around his nose and lip appear, giving him what looks like whiskers.
Sound returns the grin while Tiw is peeling off Yo from around Win. Tinn, who has joined the bunch for this round, while Sound is still back on the sofa, is helping pull on Tiw who is pulling on Yo, who is trying to hold onto Win, hands clamped around Win’s waist.
Meanwhile Win is still just standing there and smiling at Sound, seemingly having tuned out the tug of war at his body. It is almost- no it is fully comically how now Gun had joined in, tugging at Tinn, who’s tugging at Tiw, who’s tugging at Yo to let go off Win.
While Sound was on and off joining his bandmates on the makeshift dance floor of Tinn’s living room, he endured his friend’s clinginess. And if he was being honest, he was somewhat enjoying it. Chinzilla really did melt his ice prince persona since he transferred schools, with their casual touches and frequent hugs resulting in his walls of ice disappearing.
There was even a point where Tinn got so jealous and honestly paranoid that he sat Gun and Sound down for an intervention because they were more attached at the hips and touchy than the actual couple.
Since then Sound didn’t change his and Gun’s skinship, but made sure to give Tinn a similar but toned down treatment. Encouraging pats on the back, side hugs while talking within a group setting, or like today: letting the other be his leg rest.
So it’s safe to say the whole friend group is touchy. When they are drunk, but also just in their day to day interactions. However while the dancing and partying is going on, and Sound got pulled into a hug at least three times by each band member, there is one that has kept his distance from Sound.
Win is usually a casual touchy kinda person. He’s protective of, and encouraging to his friends, throwing his arms around their shoulders all the time, including Sound. Their dynamic shifted within the first year of knowing him. From fighting all the damn time, to actually appreciating each other and being supportive of each other’s dreams.
But sometimes Sound misses the times in which they broke out in huge physical fights and provocations. Adrenaline high, hands on each other and trying to prove the other who’s right. It did something with Sound.
By the time they stopped fighting, their physical contact decreased. Yeah one could argue that a fist is worse in terms of touch than a pat on the back, but Sound misses the rush. A rush that only returns in a different flavour and other intensity, when Win is hugging him when they are alone. And sadly this only happened once on a rainy night years ago under his umbrella.
Now when Chinzilla is celebrating and everyone is drunk clingy with each other, Sound observes Win returning the clingyness to his long time friends, but not Sound. Win always staying outside of a certain radius around Sound.
But it makes sense for Sound. He himself isn’t that touchy with his drunk friends and mostly just endures it to make them happy while he himself is sober. One of Win’s best and most frustrating attributes is that he’s respectful and attentive. Not so much in a fight, but in general. So it makes sense that Win keeps his distance to the one band member that isn’t too keen on being smothered by his drunk friends. It stings but is touching nontheless.
Sound shakes his head with a small smile and gets off the couch to find the bathroom to pee.
Walking through the house of his former rival and crush is weird. He was here once before when him and Tinn were forced to work on a project together. Sound was unbelievably nervous that afternoon many years ago. Sitting on Tinn’s bed, books laying around on the sheets and a laptop he then could never dream of affording one day.
And even though Sound was very set on putting his all in the assignment and getting it over with, he couldn’t hold himself back from staring at Tinn sitting mere centimetres away, while imagining how this scene could play out if they were characters on a tv show. After all, he was a teenager with a big fat crush and a need to predict every possible scenario. And these more than often included them ending up kissing.
Sound halts in front of Tinn’s room on the way to the bathroom and looks through the doorway over to the bed on which him and Tinn ended up staring at each other in silence when Tinn noticed Sound wasn’t writing anything down for their project.
And there was indeed a moment, during these long and silent minutes, in which Sound could have sworn that Tinn shifted his eyes downwards to Sound’s lips and leaning the tiniest bit forward before Tinn’s mom came barging in and asking how the project was coming along and if Sound would like to stay for dinner.
Sound did stay for dinner and overnight, despite Tinn’s protests and whining at his mother why she would even suggest this. He of course got scolded and reminded that he should be hospitable and not rude to his classmate.
While Sound have been having the time of his life seeing Tinn being scolded, he was internally going through a mild panic and replaying the previous moment over and over in his head. And during dinner and even when they were laying in Tinn’s bed because his mom insisted. Still replaying that moment and wondering if he should bring it up.
He didn’t. Sound just waited until Tinn fell asleep before the young guitarist turned to look at his rival and dared to touch a strand of his soft hair. No more, no less.
What Sound didn’t know was that Tinn, when Sound fell asleep and he in turn woke up from his slumber, reached out to brush a strand of then black hair from Sound’s hair. No more, no less.
They didn’t talk about the moment of stares that happened that afternoon, or the silent gesture of affection during the night. They didn’t talk about it. Not until their first year of college when Tinn got drunk one night.
It was after Tinn complained about Gun and Sound’s closeness and got so insecure from the prospect that Gun was cheating on him with Sound, that he snatched one of his parent’s expensive bottles from the top shelf and got drunk.
Tinn is a determined drunk. He sat both Gun and Sound down at their shared apartment and demanded answers. The two Chinzillas were thoroughly amused by Tinn’s imagination and theories but quick to tell him, between laughs, not to worry about it.
It took some time before drunk Tinn was convinced that they were telling the truth. Because, and here’s the kicker, Tinn understood why Gun would fall in love with Sound.
Gun, sweet and oblivious Gun, did agree that Sound would be a catch and that he would probably hit on him if he didn’t have Tinn. But Sound understood what Tinn meant.
After Tinn came back to the topic of Gun and Sound being too touchy with each other, and resolving that topic with some more reassurance, Gun went to the kitchen to prepare dinner for them.
Tinn and Sound were awkwardly sitting on the couch and sipping on the expensive alcohol that Tinn brought to the apartment, and thinking about what Tinn said earlier.
He understood why Gun would fall in love with Sound. Years of Sound gaslighting himself and burying all these feeling deep down, suddenly felt…wasted. Or rather like a big fat joke.
But Sound still, would never bring this up. Not that moment years ago, or if Tinn meant what he just said in the way that Sound has caught it.
And Sound would never have to need to bring it up, because Tinn did. While Gun was preparing them something to eat, Tinn put his empty glass down onto the coffee table and turned his entire body to look at Sound sitting next to him on the couch.
“You know, I hated my mom.” he said as if it meant something.
Sound took another sip of his own drink before putting it next to Tinn’s empty glass.
“We all did. She was literally Chinzilla’s arch nemesis. Having her as a mother would made me hate her back then as well.”
Tinn shakes his head way too fast, wincing for a moment. “No, I mean yes. But that’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean, Tinnaphob?” the guitarist asks, turning to look over at his best friend’s boyfriend. What he saw was reminding him of the afternoon all those years ago. Tinn looking at him nervously and lowering his eyes until they land on Sound’s lips.
“If she didn’t come in my room, I probably would have kissed you.” Tinn leans back and gives Sound a tight lipped smile and nod. “I hated her because I wanted to kiss you so bad. And I thought that you staring at me meant something and that it wasn’t just my mind playing tricks on me.”
Tinn kept switching between nervously looking at Sound’s eyes and avoiding them entirely, while feigning nonchalance. He grabbed his glass, trying to drink and realising that it was already empty.
“It meant something.”
Tinn snapped his head back to look at Sound in disbelief. The guitarist shrugged and poured them another drink. “I wanted to curse your mom out so bad, if that makes you feel better.”
He handed Tinn his glass. “And I wanted you to kiss me.” Sound took a sip. “Wanted it for a very long time.”
Tinn held his drink in his lap and lets his head fall back on the backrest of the couch. And started laughing. It was a soft but deep voiced laugh and Sound couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his best friend’s boyfriend laughing at how dumb but frustrating all of it in retrospect is.
“Shit.” Tinn let out between breathy chuckles and turned to look at Sound, before they both fell into a laughing fit.
“Come here.” the former school president said and pulled Sound into a big hug with a fond smile. It felt right. This felt like them properly burying their former rivalry, more so than what happened on their beach trip years ago when he found out Tinn was in fact not the enemy, but his ally.
Sound smiled relieved and pulled back from their hug. He could smell the alcohol in Tinn’s breath and then felt this cloud of sweet liquor move and a pair of soft lips press against his left cheek.
It was gone as soon as he felt it, and then Sound saw Tinn’s smile and bunny teeth again.
“Just so that I don’t have any regrets anymore” he explained and pulled Sound back into another hug.
“That wasn’t even a proper kiss.”
“Yeah, like how the hell does that-“ Sound started to agree and then turned his head to look at where the he heard the previous sentence.
Gun was standing in the doorframe to the kitchen and grinning at them.
Needless to say, Tinn was malfunctioning for quite a few moments, trying to explain to his love what he just witnessed and Gun enthusiastically listing reasons to and trying to convince his boyfriend and Sound to kiss properly.
“Come ooooon!” Gun whined. “I’m giving you a free pass here Tinn. See it as a poetic end to this tragic enemies to lovers story that your mother destroyed like a true Shakespearean parent.”
“Nuh uh.” Tinn shook his head. “I don’t love Sound anymore. I love YOU. How can you even-“
“You loved me?” Sound snickered.
Tinn kicked him and continued talking to his boyfriend. “How can you even suggest that?”
“For one, I would kiss Sound in a heartbeat.” Gun said matter of fact.
“Thanks bro. Same.” Sound chimed in and got a mini heart sent by Gun before the band leader continued.
“Aaaaand, this is literally the cutest shit and the universe probably needs this to end like this. I can feel it. This is literally like the whole Sound and Win situation. And you know how much I’m invested in a good enemies to lovers.” Gun kept pleading.
“I WON’T kiss my former crush in front of my boyfriend! What the fuck Gun?!” Tinn shook his head and pointed at the both of them.
“I can go out of this room, if that makes you more comfortable.” Gun suggested with a shrug.
“Argh!” Tinn let out embarrassed while Gun started chuckling, enjoying torturing his boyfriend.
The band leader let his gaze wander over and spotted Sound sitting on the sofa next to existential crisis Tinn, staring back at Gun, with all the colour drained from his face.
Gun furrowed his brows. “You okay Sound?”
Sound was in fact not okay.
“What do you mean with ‘the whole Sound and Win situation’, Gun?”
It turned out that Sound wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was regarding his crush on Win. And supposedly Gun sniffed it out since the beach trip. Apparently the song Sound write didn’t go over everyone’s head like Sound thought. Win didn’t get it, so he thought no one did. Well, he was wrong.
Gun is the self proclaimed captain of their ship and has dragged Tinn into it as well. Against his will though.
But all of that didn’t change a thing. Gun might be rooting for them but there was nothing to be rooting for when it is one sided. Sound also begged Gun not to be his usual impulsive self and do something that could do irreversible damage. Like creating situations to make Win fall in love with Sound.
And even tonight, here in Tinn’s house as they are celebrating Chinzilla’s win of the most important university level music competition, Sound has to throw warning glances at Gun when he forms his scheming smile and pulls Sound from the couch to dance with them and get him and Win close to each other.
Thankfully Gun still has an ounce of fear left for Sound, so he doesn’t do anything that he wants to. Not that it would do anything anyways. Because Win stays a good distance away from Sound this evening, no matter what.
Until now.
Sound has reached the bathroom next to Tinn’s bedroom after he went down memory lane. As he is about to exit the room and opens the door, someone almost slams it into Sound’s face as they come running into the bathroom.
He can hear the sound of puking before he sees Win hunched over the toilet seat. Sound sighs defeated and walks over and crouches down next to him and rubbing his back. And even though it doesn’t do much he combs the long-ish strands of hair from Win’s forehead back with his fingers.
“Serves you right.” Sound says when Win calms down.
“I think you should be comforting me and not insulting me, asshole.” Win retorts as he lifts himself up and walks, or rather tries to walk, over to the sink.
As Win is cleaning himself up and rummaging around for a new toothbrush, Sound joins him next to the sink.
“I’m so sorry honey. Are you feeling sick? Can I make you a tea or something for the troubles with your stomach that definitely didn’t come from the humongous amount of alcohol you consumed by yourself?” Sound coos.
“Shut up.” Win mumbles around a toothbrush. “We are celebrating. Live a little.”
“I’m not that eager to live my life at the edge of a toilet bowl, thank you very much.” the guitarist argues back.
“Whatever” Win says and splashes his face once again with cold water and runs his hands through his mullet that Sound was holding a few moments ago.
“What the fuck is going on with you today?” Sound says with a tone more worried than insulting.
“Nothing.” Win mumbles and starts walking away without giving Sound a single look.
The guitarist grabs the other’s arm as he is about to leave the bathroom.
Win pulls up his shoulders with a wince and his arm away from Sound’s grasp. “DON’T-“ he raises his voice before dropping it back down and taking a breath and physically shaking off whatever feeling he is having. “Please don’t touch me.”
And with that he left and leaves Sound standing in the bathroom.
When he returns downstairs and plops back down on the sofa next to Tinn, who immediately grabs Sound to lean on, he sees Win pour himself shot after shot after shot.
For the rest of the party, Win not once looks into the direction of Sound, and keeps even more of a distance between them.
Sound feels sick. And unlike his friends, not because of the alcohol.
It’s two at night and the Chinzillas plus their boyfriend’s are fast asleep. Technically they could have partied longer but Tinn, the model citizen, wrapped things up an hour after midnight to not disturb the neighbours with their partying.
They were all asleep, except of course Sound. He would love to say that Yo’s irregular and unpredictable snoring is the reason for Sound’s inability to find rest, but it’s just the usual bullshit of needing hours and hours to fall asleep.
It reaches the point where the added snoring makes Sound want to rip either his own ears, or Yo’s throat out. Preferably the latter. So Sound just grabs his pillow and blanket and walks out of the room, past all the others in which the rest of the group is sleeping.
Gun and Tinn of course are sleeping in Tinn’s room. That lucky bastard Gun gets the privilege of an undisturbed sleep in a big bed and the arms of his boyfriend while the others are divided up into the two guest bedrooms and even Tinns father’s office, sleeping on the floor on a few futons.
Sound walks down the stairs to return to the couch that he has spent most of the evening on anyways. So he might as well sleep on it, far away from any snoring bandmates. He kept the lights turned off because he knows from experience that if he turns any light on even for a second, he can add another hour to the time until he can finally fall asleep.
The small light on the plugged in gaming consoles to the flatscreen, give the faintest of light for the room so that Sound can reach the couch without tripping and splitting his skull on any of the unnecessarily modern and sharp edged furniture.
Like a welcome friend, Sound indeed finds the couch and a feeling of tiredness swarms his system in anticipation of a few hours of sleep. He puts the pillow and blanket on the spot he was laying on earlier and slips under it. The tension in his muscles dissolve into the soft upholstery under him and he snuggles himself into the blanket.
And because it has become a habit, Sound closes his eyes and mutters “Good night” got himself to signal his body that it should start falling asleep and not keep lying awake for a few more hours. Sound smiles to himself as he mutters his good night and thankfully starts feeling his mind letting go and slowly slipping away onto the path of sleep.
“Goodnight”
Sound’s eyes shoot open and he sits up, kicking his legs as he does so.
“Ouch, what the fuck?” someone says in the dark as Sound accidentally kicks against that someone a few centimetres away from his feet, further down the long couch.
Sound gives another, now deliberate, kick. He hears a tired and annoyed groan and then feels a kick back.
It’s unmistakably Win, and Sound curses himself internally. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hisses.
He can hear and feel shuffling as Win sits up on the other end of the couch. “Hey Siri, turn the living room indirect lighting to 1%” Win slurs and a moment later, he and their surroundings become visible. It’s just a hint of light, and Sound slowly opens his eyes that he squeezed shut in anticipation of a bunch of lights turning on and destroying his chances to fall asleep anytime soon.