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Even in his inebriated state, Wooyoung could pinpoint the moment things started to go downhill. He had known San long enough to have grown well accustomed to his drinking habits, and he could usually tell when the older man had crossed the threshold from “pleasantly tipsy” to “will without a doubt be ending the night with his head buried in the toilet bowl.” It always started off small- a far-away look in San’s eyes, a slight sway like he was standing on a rocking boat despite having his feet planted firmly on solid ground, a soft burp muffled into his fist or the collar of his shirt. The other members often remained oblivious, but Wooyoung had learned to notice the subtle changes, and because of that, he was usually able to intervene well before things reached emergency territory. Unfortunately, since San was the type of drunk person to not realize he wasn’t feeling well until he was already seconds away from spilling his guts, it was a pretty essential skill for Wooyoung to have developed over the years in order to save the group’s furniture (and their sanity).
That night, the tip off had been the way San’s expression had gradually shifted from an easy, relaxed smile to one of faint discomfort, his eyebrows ever so slightly drawing together and his lips settling into a thin line every time he finished speaking. He had seemed content enough still, but Wooyoung knew how quickly that could change. Wooyoung also knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to convince San to interrupt his fun in order to camp out in front of the toilet before it was absolutely necessary, and as such he decided to act preemptively so that he’d be ready when the inevitable happened; he didn’t want their lovely evening to end with him having to clean his friend’s stomach contents off their living room floor, not if he could help it.
“I’ll be right back, Sannie, don’t start without me,” Wooyoung called over his shoulder as he slipped out of the room to grab some plastic bags from under the kitchen sink. San hummed a noncommittal response, too busy trying to choose the next course to run in the Mario Kart tournament the two were having to register what the younger had said.
It seemed, once again, that Wooyoung’s instincts were spot on, because no sooner had he re-entered the room, bags in hand, did San let out a loud gag, the controller he’d been holding falling onto his lap as he clumsily slapped both hands over his mouth in an attempt to hold back the sick feeling that had suddenly washed over of him.
“Shit, I knew it, hold on,” Wooyoung cursed, rushing forward to meet his friend. With far more dexterity than should’ve been possible, given his own intoxication, Wooyoung managed to get one of the bags open under San’s chin just in time for him to bring up a small mouthful of vomit into the waiting receptacle. Wooyoung tensed, waiting for him to continue, but after a few quiet coughs, San just slumped backwards on the couch, breathing heavily. Although a little confused, Wooyoung decided to take advantage of the moment of respite and get San in front of the toilet before the next round of sickness began. He hoisted San up under his armpits, the soiled bag clutched tightly shut in one hand as he awkwardly tried to maneuver the larger man down the hall towards the bathroom.
Wooyoung was relieved that, despite all the noise they’d been making, Yunho seemed to still be asleep. The older member had joined them for a few beers over dinner, but he had gone to bed when they got home instead of staying up to play video games and continue drinking, as Mingi would be returning from a trip with Yeosang and Jongho the next day, and the two of them had plans that Yunho didn’t want to be hungover for. Wooyoung knew San would feel terrible if his friend was forced to spend the night helping him out as a result of his own poor decision making, so he was grateful that Yunho was a fairly heavy sleeper, and hoped that both the bedroom and bathroom doors being shut would be enough to drown out San’s misery.
As soon as they’d entered the bathroom, San pulled himself out of Wooyoung’s grasp and promptly sat down on the floor in front of the toilet, leaning forward so that his forehead was pressed against the closed lid. Wooyoung tossed the bag he’d been holding into the bathtub to be dealt with later, his brain too fuzzy to figure out what else to do with it, and lowered himself down to sit behind his sick friend. “Come on Sannie, lay back on me a bit, you’ll be more comfortable,” he encouraged, reaching forward to lift the toilet lid when San blearily raised his head from where it had been resting.
Instead of settling back into his waiting arms, though, as Wooyoung had been anticipating, San suddenly pitched forward and began to retch emptily over the water. Wooyoung frowned at the sound, desperate and harsh and entirely unexpected, given the reason he was throwing up in the first place. While the flu or a stomach bug had the tendency to make San miserable, often forcing him to spend an agonizing amount of time waiting between rounds of being sick, Wooyoung had never seen him struggle like this after he’d been drinking. Despite being rather violent in its efforts to do so, San’s body was always pretty efficient in purging the alcohol from his system, and after a few horrible minutes of bringing up what seemed like everything he’d ever consumed, he’d quickly start feeling better and would happily fall asleep on whatever surface (or whoever’s shoulder) was nearest. Yet somehow, here he was now, seemingly unable to get out anything past the small amount that he had thrown up in the living room, and Wooyoung was beginning to get worried.
Was San sick? Wooyoung reached a hand around to feel his friend’s forehead. It was clammy, but there was no heat coming off of it, and none of San’s usual tells that he was coming down with something had been present during the day they’d spent together either. It likely wasn’t food poisoning, as they’d both eaten the same thing for dinner and Wooyoung felt fine. Alcohol poisoning? Wooyoung’s stomach dropped as the thought entered his mind. He didn’t feel like they’d drunk enough for that to be the case, but what other explanation could there possibly be for San being so horrifically sick all of the sudden?
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt San lean further forward, coughing harshly as he brought up another pitifully meager amount of liquid. Clearly his body was doing its best to rid itself of the toxins he’d ingested, but for whatever reason, it wasn’t quite able to get the job done.
Wooyoung chewed on his lip nervously, racking his brain on what he could do to help his friend. Despite his uncertainty, he didn’t want to wake Yunho up unless he absolutely had to, given how clear the older man had been about wanting to go to bed early so he could get a good night’s sleep. He briefly considered calling one of his other groupmates for advice instead, but ultimately decided against that too. Seonghwa and Hongjoong had finally been able to make some time to catch up with a few friends they hadn’t seen in a while, so Wooyoung didn’t want to bother them unless there was an actual emergency, and he figured it didn’t make much sense for him to call any of the other three either, seeing as they were still in an entirely different post code.
With his mind on his members, however, Wooyoung’s muddled brain suddenly supplied him with a hazy memory from their trainee days of a time he had surprised Hongjoong with a hug from behind, not knowing the leader was fighting a stomach bug, and caused him to promptly vomit all over the practice room floor (and Seonghwa’s shoes). Would that work? Wooyoung knew you could make someone sick by sticking your fingers down their throat, but the idea of doing so, especially after San had already thrown up, made Wooyoung’s own stomach turn. Maybe, hopefully, this would work instead.
Making sure he was steady enough to not faceplant when he let him go, Wooyoung moved his hands off of San’s shoulders and onto his midsection. He was unsurprised, but sympathetic nonetheless, to find the muscles tensing rhythmically under his palms, working overtime in a desperate attempt to get out whatever was making him feel so rotten.
“I’m gonna try something, okay, Sannie? Let me know if this hurts,” Wooyoung whispered, waiting until he received a grunt of acknowledgement from the sick man before proceeding. He lifted San’s shirt slightly, positioning his hands just above his belly button, and firmly pushed down.
The reaction was almost instantaneous. San jerked forward, grabbing onto the edge of the toilet seat with both hands as he coughed up a small stream of liquid into the water below.
“There we go, good job, San-ah,” Wooyoung breathed out, relieved to see that his method seemed to be working. “I’m going to do it again, okay? Tell me if you want me to stop.”
Wooyoung repeated the process several times, making sure to be gentle as he did so- he wanted San to feel better quickly, but he didn’t want to risk accidentally hurting him by pressing too hard. After the first few rounds, San’s body seemed to get the memo and took over, no longer needing the assistance in order to purge itself, but now it seemed that once he had started, he wasn’t able to stop. Wave after wave of acidic vomit tore out of his throat, some of it splashing onto the toilet seat and the surrounding floor with the force of how violently he was throwing up.
This intensity of sickness was far more typical for San when he’d been drinking, and while at first Wooyoung assumed his friend had just needed a little assistance in order to get the ball rolling, he soon started to grow worried again. Long past when he would've thought he had to be empty, he watched as San continued to turn himself inside out, coughing and spluttering as he struggled to catch his breath through the seemingly unending onslaught of illness. Wooyoung did his best to comfort him through it, rubbing large circles on his back and whispering words of encouragement that he doubted San could even hear over the sounds of his stomach rebelling against him.
After what felt like an eternity, the torment finally came to an end, the incessant, painful retching that had been plaguing San for the better part of an hour gradually tapering off into small coughs and wet sniffles. Wooyoung was about to ask him how he was feeling when suddenly, without warning, San went limp in his arms, slumping back onto him like a puppet with its strings cut. Wooyoung felt his heart skip a beat at the abruptness of it, but he tried not to panic; San was probably just exhausted from having been so sick, and after all, it was pretty par for the course for him to get sleepy and knock out after he was done vomiting. A little heads up would’ve been nice before Wooyoung found himself with a lap full of sweaty, puke-covered human, but at the end of the day, it probably wasn’t anything to be too concerned about.
“Hey, why don’t we go to bed, hm?” he whispered gently, extracting a hand from where it had been pinned under San’s sudden weight to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his friend’s ear. “I think you’re empty now, but I can grab the trash can if you’re still feeling nauseous, okay? It’ll be a lot more comfortable than staying on the floor.”
San, however, didn’t immediately wake up like Wooyoung had expected him to. Wooyoung called his name again, shaking his shoulder slightly as he did so. San could fall asleep at the drop of a hat, but he wasn’t a very deep sleeper, and it was usually quite easy to rouse him long enough to cooperate with being moved from one room to another. This time though, despite the repeated calls of his name, he didn’t stir.
Wooyoung pulled San upright and shook him a bit harder. “Sannie wake up, I need you to work with me here, I can’t lift you by myself.”
Still no response. Wooyoung felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest, and without giving himself a chance to second think it, he decided he needed help. Quickly, albeit with some difficulty, he shifted San the rest of the way off his lap, propping him up against the side of the bathtub and maneuvering his shoulders so that his head was leaning up against the wall.
Once he was sure the older man was in a stable enough position to not accidentally fall forward and give himself a concussion, Wooyoung stood up, abandoning his previous attempts to be quiet as he hurried down the hall and flung open the door to Yunho and Mingi’s bedroom.
“Yunho! Yunho, wake up, I think something’s wrong with San,” he cried out, his voice shrill and piercing in the otherwise silent room. He was being much louder than he needed to be, given that Yunho was right there, but his own intoxicated state had started to get the better of him, and he was finding it more and more difficult to keep his composure with each moment that passed.
“Wha- Wooyoung? Is that you?” Yunho mumbled as he sat up groggily, clearly not having processed the urgency with which his groupmate was speaking. “What’s going on?”
Wooyoung rushed over to Yunho’s bed- it was a little rude, barging in the way he did and towering over his barely awake friend, but he knew Yunho would forgive him given the circumstances.
“Sannie’s really sick, I think he might have alcohol poisoning. He threw up a lot, like a lot, but not in the way he normally does, like it seemed like he was struggling to get anything out at first and I had to help him, and then I thought maybe it was getting better, but he fell asleep and when I tried to get him to wake up so he could go to bed he wouldn’t wake up, and now I’m worried something is really wrong and I don’t know what to do, please help me!” The words tumbled out of him at a velocity that only Wooyoung could achieve, but they seemed to get the point across sufficiently, as Yunho was now very awake and very concerned.
“What? Alcohol poisoning? I thought you guys were just having a chill night, how on earth did he drink enough to get alcohol poisoning?” Yunho grabbed his phone from where it was charging next to him and scrambled out of bed, his legs getting caught up a bit in his blankets in his haste to get up and check on his friend.
“I don’t know, I didn’t think we drank that much but he is so sick, I don’t know what else it could be,” Wooyoung whined, trailing behind Yunho as the older man exited his bedroom. “He doesn’t have a fever or anything so I don’t think he’s like, sick sick, but I swear to god I’ve literally never seen a human being produce that much puke before in my life.”
Yunho made his way down the hallway and was about to step foot into the bathroom when all of the sudden, Wooyoung pushed him out of the way and lunged forward, barely making it over the sink in time for a torrent of thick, sludgy liquid to come pouring out of him.
“Fuck, Woo, you too?” Yunho exclaimed, clearly taken aback at suddenly having two sick members on his hands instead of just the one he’d been anticipating. Wooyoung rarely threw up from drinking, and Yunho was beginning to worry that maybe something else was going on if he was feeling sick to his stomach too. He placed a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder to steady him, trying not to look at the way the foul substance splattered against the sides of the white porcelain as the younger continued to vomit.
It took Wooyoung a full minute before he was able to catch his breath enough to answer, he himself feeling almost as caught off guard by the unexpected bout of sickness as Yunho had been. “No no I’m fine, I think I just-“ he paused to cough into his sleeve. “Sorry. I think I just got a little overwhelmed. I’m okay though, I promise. Focus on Sannie.”
Yunho looked skeptical, but when Wooyoung straightened up and sincerely didn’t seem like he was going to be sick anymore, he turned his attention to their unconscious friend on the floor.
San was resting against the bathtub exactly as Wooyoung had left him, his eyes closed and his cheeks and neck dusted a deep shade of pink. While it was not at all uncommon for San to get flushed when he drank, and Wooyoung had already said he wasn’t running a fever, Yunho knelt down and raised a hand to check his temperature, just in case. As expected, San felt a little bit warmer than usual, but not any more than was typical after having been drinking, and definitely not enough to indicate a fever. What Yunho hadn’t been expecting, though, was for San to begin to stir at the light touch.
“Yunho?” San mumbled, his brows furrowing slightly at the sight of the older member in front of him.
“What?” Wooyoung squeaked, whipping around from where he’d been standing trying to rinse out the sink. Abandoning his half-cleaned mess, he dropped to the floor next to Yunho and reached a hand out to cup San’s cheek. “You’re awake?”
“Of course ‘m awake, why wouldn’t I be ‘wake?” San slurred with a lazy smile, clearly failing to notice the concern etched into the faces of his two friends hovering above him.
“I- what? What do you mean?” Wooyoung cried. “You totally passed out on me, dude, I thought you had fucking alcohol poisoning or something!” He paused and turned to look up at Yunho, wearing an expression of such pure exasperation that it almost would’ve been comical, if not for the seriousness of the situation at hand. “I swear to God he wasn’t okay when I left, I wouldn’t have woken you up otherwise!”
“It’s okay, Woo, calm down,” Yunho soothed, placing a hand on Woyooung’s back. “Maybe Sannie here just needed a little power nap. Do you wanna fill me in on what you guys were actually doing anyways, now that we’re sure no one’s dying? It might give me a better idea of what might’ve happened. You said you didn’t really drink that much but clearly something didn’t agree with him.” He grimaced as he finished speaking, having noticed for the first time since entering the room the stain on the front of San’s t-shirt and the small, rapidly drying puddle of vomit on the floor next to the toilet that Wooyoung apparently hadn’t bothered to clean up before rushing to get him.
“We uh… we had those beers when we were out at dinner with you. Then we drank some soju, but San only had two shots, I swear! And then…” Wooyoung racked his brain, trying his best to think through the thick layer of fog that had settled in his head. “…and then we tried some of that whiskey flight that Sangie brought back from the U.K. last year. But that’s it! It wasn’t even a lot, really!” He finished, throwing his hands up in self defense. Sure, they drank a little more than they would’ve if they had plans the next day or if they were out with other people, but he definitely didn’t think it would’ve been enough to cause this.
“Haven’t you guys ever heard the saying? Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear, beer before liquor, never been sicker?” Yunho asked as he ripped a few squares of toilet paper off the roll and began to clean the floor. He had a fairly strong stomach, but he had to admit that the smell was starting to get to him a bit.
“Huh? That’s a thing? I start with beer all the time and I’ve never had an issue.” Wooyoung tilted his head to the side, a bit confused. “And so do you!” he added after a moment of thought, pointing an accusatory finger at Yunho.
“Ah yes, but you see, we aren’t the world’s biggest lightweights, Young-ah,” Yunho smiled, giving San a sympathetic pat on the shoulder with his free hand.
“Heyyyyy!” San whined in protest, trying to push himself upright but ultimately flopping back against the tub in defeat once it became evident that his arms were still not strong enough to hold him up. “‘m not the biggest lightweight! I can drink more than Seonghwa hyung can!”
“That is… highly debatable,” Wooyoung replied, a bit incredulously. “Hwa hyung isn’t the one almost sending me to an early grave thinking he’s died on the bathroom floor. He’s also never projectile vomited in a Denny’s parking lot after two Long Island iced teas, for that matter.”
San let out an indignant squawk at the reminder of the events that had unfolded on their most recent trip to the States. He’d been incredibly embarrassed about having been sick in public, and it really wasn’t cool of Wooyoung to have brought it up, especially when San was already having a rough night.
“Be nice, Woo,” Yunho scolded, although his voice was soft as he did so; he’d heard how upset Wooyoung had been when he’d come into his room to wake him up, and he knew the younger’s words were probably just coming from a place of stress.
Wooyoung dipped his head apologetically, and Yunho gave him a reassuring pat on the knee before turning his attention back to San. “And relax, Sannie, I’m just teasing you. I think you might just be a little more sensitive to what you drink since you don’t have a very high tolerance. Next time how about we just stick to one or the other, okay? No more mixing beer with whiskey, or any other hard liquor, for that matter.
San nodded glumly. “I don’t think I even want to drink whiskey again. That shit burns coming up, it felt like I was puking battery acid,” he pouted, causing Yunho’s face to twist in sympathy and Wooyoung, whose own stomach was still full of the offending liquid, to stifle a gag into the back of his hand.
“And on that note, I think it’s time for bed,” Yunho declared, bracing himself on his knees as he stood up off the cold tile. “Woo, can you stay with him? I’m gonna get his room set up real quick and then we can move him.”
“Yeah, of course. Can you grab a clean shirt too, please? This one’s a little…” Wooyoung trailed off, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
“Yup, on it.”
For a few moments after Yunho left, the bathroom was quiet. Now that San had been awake for a while, Wooyoung’s anxiety was starting to calm down, and he was finally able to think a bit more clearly about the whole situation. “I’m sorry for freaking out,” he mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed at how worked up he’d gotten. “I was just worried, you really scared me.”
“‘s okay,” San replied with a small smile. “I get it. And I’m sorry, too, for making you worry so much. I had no idea any of that was gonna happen, I was having such a good time…”
Wooyoung leaned forward and brushed a thumb across San’s cheek. “I know, Sannie, it’s alright. I’m just glad you’re okay now, and hopefully next time we’ll be able to plan a bit better, for both of our sakes.” He paused for a moment, watching the way San smacked his lips together uncomfortably. “Are you feeling okay to stand up? I think you should probably brush your teeth before you go to bed.”
“Ugh, yes please. My mouth tastes like something crawled into it and died.”
“Ew, dude, that’s nasty.”
Twenty minutes later, San was fast asleep, a large glass of water on his nightstand and a lined trash can within easy reach in case he woke up feeling sick again. Wooyoung and Yunho sat at the foot of his bed, speaking in hushed voices- now that San was properly asleep, it was unlikely they would wake him up just by talking, but it felt like the right thing to do anyway.
“Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” Wooyoung whispered, looking down at San’s sleeping form. Even though things had gotten better after Yunho had joined them in the bathroom, Wooyoung still felt a bit uneasy; he had dealt with a sick San many times before, of course, but this hadn’t been like any of those times, and the unexpected deviation from what he was used to had completely thrown him for a loop.
“He’ll be fine, Woo, I promise. Just let him sleep the rest of this off. Matter of fact, you should do the same,” Yunho urged, giving Wooyoung’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I know you have a higher tolerance than he does, but you’re probably still gonna have a pretty gnarly hangover tomorrow.”
Wooyoung frowned, fidgeting anxiously with the hem of his shirt. “But what if he needs me again and I sleep through it? I can stay awake but once I’m asleep, I don’t think I’ll wake up again until the morning,” he fretted.
“Tell you what, why don’t you two sleep in his bed and I’ll sleep in Yeosang’s?” Yunho offered. “They’re not coming back until tomorrow afternoon so I’ll have time to change the sheets in the morning, and this way I’ll be right here the whole night, and I’ll be able to hear it if Sannie needs anything.” He knew it was unlikely that he would be able to convince Wooyoung to go to sleep as long as he thought San would be alone, and despite the reassurance he’d given the younger member, Yunho himself didn’t particularly love the idea of San being unsupervised the entire night after having been so violently ill either.
“Okay, yeah, that sounds good actually,” Wooyoung conceded with a yawn, seemingly satisfied with the compromise. The adrenaline had finally worn off and he was starting to feel a bit worse for wear, a dull headache having settled behind his eyes and his own stomach still aching after having thrown up earlier. He remained motionless for a moment, silently watching the rhythmic rise and fall of San’s chest as he breathed, before turning to Yunho again. “I was so scared, Yuyu. I had no idea what I was doing,” he admitted quietly, letting his head fall to the side slightly so that it was resting against the taller man’s shoulder.
“Aigoo, come here,” Yunho cooed, reaching an arm out behind his friend and running a hand up and down his back soothingly. Wooyoung had such a fiery, spirited personality that it was easy sometimes to forget that he was the second youngest, and he really hadn’t had that much experience in dealing with things like this, at least not on his own. “I know it was scary, Youngie, but you did so well. You took care of him when he needed you, and you came and got me when you needed more help. You did everything right. Sannie’s okay, you’re okay, we’re all okay here.” Yunho pressed a kiss to the top of Wooyoung’s head, smiling fondly when the younger man muffled another yawn into his fist. “Get some sleep now, alright? I’ll be right here if either of you need anything.”
And sleep Wooyoung did. Luckily, he and San both made it through the night without any further incidents, and after having stayed up for a short time to watch over them, Yunho was able to fall back asleep too. Unfortunately, it seemed that luck was not entirely on their side, as Mingi, Jongho, and Yeosang ended up returning from their trip the next morning a few hours earlier than planned, before any of the three sleeping friends had time to wake up and complete the rest of the previous night’s cleaning attempts.
"Oh my god, what the fuck is in our bathtub?"