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Moblit wakes up to a pounding headache and the smell of bacon and eggs. The juxtaposition of these two things — this unpleasant pounding of his head threatening to shatter his skull and the comforting smell of breakfast as he’s swaddled in blankets like a newborn babe — makes him want to hurl but he manages to swallow down his bitter bile despite the dryness of his mouth. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut because the bright sunlight streaming through the cracks of the curtains is blinding. With another groan, he rolls out of bed only to realize his mistake too late when he takes a tumble and falls to the floor with a thud . He yelps when he feels the cold hardwood against his bare skin and finds to his horror that he’s completely naked.
The events of last night come back to him but only in bits and pieces. He remembers downing far too many drinks that he’s used to at the midterm party last night, gulping them down as quickly as possible so that he can move onto the next one. The more he drank, the more everything began to blur together. He remembers Hanji taking him by the hand, their laughter interwoven with his like beautiful countermelodies. Everyone else around them sounded like cacophony in comparison. He doesn’t even remember what they were laughing about or what everyone else was talking about. He just remembers the wide grin on Hanji’s face and being drawn to them even more than usual.
Moblit can’t really say what compelled him to follow Hanji back to their room. It must have been the alcohol that suppressed his typical inhibitions. Any hesitations forgotten, Moblit had leaned forward to kiss Hanji and the two had become a mess of interlocked lips all the way back to Hanji’s room.
“Fuck,” Moblit groans, head still pounding. He grasps around for any articles of clothing he had discarded on the floor. He doesn’t remember any of this, only the unzipping of his jeans and stripping of his shirt. He doesn’t remember anything else after that. “ Fuck.”
Moblit manages to find his boxers crumpled on the floor and he slips them on hastily. It takes more flailing about on the floor and grasping at anything that looked like his clothes (which was only made more difficult due to Hanji’s habit of never cleaning up after themself and the fact that Moblit could only open his eyes a fraction of a centimeter unless he wanted to be blinded by daylight), but he finally collects his wrinkled clothes and pulls them on. He wonders if he looks as much of a mess as he feels.
Gingerly, Moblit musters the courage to step outside of Hanji’s room room. He knows that someone is already awake outside and he knows that there’s a high chance that Hanji is that someone waiting in the living room if they’re not cooking. He shouldn’t be so surprised when he sees Hanji in the kitchen making a stack of pancakes, but he flinches at the sight of them even as Hanji smiles broadly and waves their spatula at him.
“You’re awake,” Hanji says, their voice much louder than Moblit expects it to be. Or maybe he’s just more hungover than he thinks he is.
“Y-yeah,” Moblit says, raising his hands to cover his ears gently. He flinches again when Hanji laughs at him.
It’s too embarrassing to look Hanji in the face. He can’t even remember what had happened last night — what exactly they had done once they had dove into Hanji’s bed, if he was good, if he was bad, if Hanji enjoyed any of it. He keeps his eye fixed on the kitchen counter instead and tries not to breathe in the scent of sweet pancakes and sizzling bacon and eggs too deeply. It smells delicious, but everything is making his stomach churn and he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep himself from vomiting for long.
“Do you want breakfast?” Hanji asks. They push a plate of pancakes, bacon, and eggs across the counter. “I made plenty in case you were hungry. It’d probably help your hangover, too.”
“N-no thanks,” Moblit stammers.
Moblit’s stomach does something weird. Its nearly empty contents swirl like a tidal wave. He feels himself grow increasingly queasy and light-headed just by standing in the same room as Hanji. He should probably run to the bathroom or just ease his anxiety by asking Hanji what had happened last night, but he does neither of these things. Instead, he excuses himself by saying he has something to do and runs out of Hanji’s apartment and down the steps. He barely makes it to the front of the apartment building before he throws up in the bushes.
˖⁺‧₊˚ 𓆩♡𓆪 ˚₊‧⁺˖
Moblit spends the rest of the morning throwing up in the bathroom of the apartment he shares with Levi. He doesn’t even know why he’s puking so much considering he hasn’t eaten anything since last night. He had tried to stomach a few bites of bread, but he hadn’t managed to keep it down and spent the next fifteen minutes with his head in the toilet bowl. Luckily for him, his roommate makes an unexpectedly good nurse.
“Drink,” Levi commands as he hands Moblit another water bottle. It’s the second water bottle that Levi has opened for him and Moblit is already halfway done with it. Levi waits patiently for Moblit to take a few sips, watching with a judgmental frown. “You shouldn’t have drank so much if you couldn’t handle it.”
“I wouldn’t have drank this much if I knew I’d be like this today, but I honestly lost track halfway last night and just drank whatever people handed me,” Moblit groans. Another wave of nausea sweeps over him and he sticks his head in the toilet bowl once more, readying himself for the worst. After a moment, the wave passes and Moblit feels slightly relieved. He sits up and looks tiredly over at Levi. He’s never considered them to be particularly close, but he finds himself confessing, “To be honest, I’m not sure this is because of the alcohol.”
Levi’s frown grows deeply. Evidently taking care of his puking roommate is fine, but Levi draws the line at having to take care of Moblit’s emotional mess. Despite this, Moblit continues.
“I ... I went home with Hanji last night,” Moblit says slowly. Even though he’s been aware of this, he’s still processing it now that he’s saying it out loud. “I went home with Hanji last night and ... I can’t remember a fucking thing.”
Levi looks at Moblit for the longest time, his expression unfathomable. Finally, he breathes in deeply and sighs through his nose before uttering the words Moblit least wants to hear: “Just talk to Hanji.”
“I can’t talk to them!” Moblit squawks. He scrambles for a reason to justify evading any type of confrontation with Hanji, but his brain comes up empty. He’s stumbling over his words as Levi waits expectantly for an answer, but in the end Moblit only manages to muster, “I really can’t to Hanji. I just can’t, Levi.”
“Your cowardice aside, do you really have any reason not to talk to them?” Levi asks. He leans back against the bathroom counter, arms crossed against his chest. He’s never been a tall person, but he towers over Moblit now as he stares down at the cowering, hungover idiot. “Moblit, do you like Hanji?”
“Yes,” Moblit answers almost instantly.
“There you go then,” Levi says with a nod. He pushes himself off the counter and turns around, done with taking care of Moblit and fed up with listening to his roommates non-issues. He walks off, not bothering to turn back as he tells Moblit, “Just talk to Hanji. And fucking eat something, Moblit. You’re going to pass out otherwise and neither of us can afford to pay a hospital bill.”
He knows Levi is right, but he can’t muster up the courage to even call Hanji and ask about what had happened. The thought of it makes him feel weak in the knees.
Moblit stares back at his sad reflection in the toilet bowl ... and then throws up again.
˖⁺‧₊˚ 𓆩♡𓆪 ˚₊‧⁺˖
Moblit manages to avoid Hanji for an entire week, but it’s an agonizing week. Every day that passes without Hanji, Moblit finds himself growing more and more anxious. What if Hanji takes it the wrong way? He isn’t avoiding them because he doesn’t want to see them. He’s just avoiding them because he doesn’t want them to see him . He has several unread messages from Hanji and multiple voicemails from them that he was too scared to listen to. What if Hanji thought he was awful in bed? What if they found him unimpressive? What if they never wanted to speak to him ever again?
He tried to speak to Levi about his anxieties, but Levi stubbornly refused to offer any help. His roommate would simply shake his head and tell Moblit to just talk to Hanji instead. Moblit shouldn’t be so surprised. Levi isn’t the kind of person people go to for emotional support.
Eventually, Moblit breaks down and finds himself pounding on Hanji’s door. They look surprised to see Moblit standing at their residence when they open the door.
“What are you doing here?” Hanji asks in confusion, brows knitted together as if they can’t quite believe Moblit has shown up. Moblit doesn’t know if it’s because Hanji doesn’t want to see him or if it’s simply because he had avoided Hanji for an entire week. “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. You haven’t responded to any of my messages.”
Ah, it’s the second one.
“No, no, I’m just ... I’m so embarrassed,” Moblit confesses, cheeks burning red. He looks down at his shoes, unable to meet Hanji’s eyes until they bring their hand under his chin and force him to look up.
“Would you like a reminder?” Hanji asks, voice low and seductive and something in Moblit melts.
“Y-yes,” Moblit whispers. His eyes travel down his chest where Hanji’s fingers are trailing across the fabric of his shirt, tracing the buttons of his button-down.
Hanji pulls him in by the collar and gives him a kiss. Their lips lock against his and it feels so familiar and so right as their lips slot together. When Hanji parts their lips, Moblit follows suit and he finds the taste of them so enticing. Whenever Hanji pulls away, Moblit finds himself desiring more and his hunger is only quenched once their lips meet again.
Hanji pulls him into the apartment, shutting the door behind Moblit before pushing him up against the door. Between fervent kisses, they fill Moblit in about the details that were missing from that night one week ago.
“We went into my room. You were so excited, could barely wait to strip yourself bare,” Hanji teases in between kisses. “We made out in my bed. And then you fell asleep.”
“I ... I fell asleep?” Moblit asks, so mortified that he stops locking lips with Hanji. He’s shocked, unable to reciprocate the kisses that Hanji presses against his skin. Even as Hanji giggles, their breath hot against his jaw, Moblit can only stand there in absolute mortification and disbelief. “I fell asleep ?”
“Don’t worry, it was cute,” Hanji coos. They lean up to kiss the corner of Moblit’s open mouth. A hand reaches up to brush the hair away from Moblit’s eyes. They smile up at him coyly. “How about we give you something you can remember instead?”
“I’d rather just forget everything that happened last week instead,” he groans, resting his head against Hanji’s shoulder. He’s still horribly embarrassed, but he does feel better when Hanji laughs, amused, even if it’s at his expense.