Grayson ✗ Weijun
For how long had they known now? A good four? five? years? He didn't even remember himself clearly for how long it had been now but he was very well aware of how Grayson had turned into the person closest to him, forget all about a family that had never been around since his childhood days, leaving him to do whatever he wanted with his aunt living god knew where being his legal guardian. Not as if anyone had ever cared though, he might as well have burned down the school building back then and no one would have ever batted an eyelash about it, there would've only been an insurance paying the good double of what the stuff he might've ruined would have been worth in first place.
But pushing all that aside, what was the reason for him never before having noticed just how smooth and plush and tender Grayson's lips looked when he was talking himself into ecstasy? Those perfectly colored plush pillows that still seemed to be tinted by the make-up of whatever shoot Weijun had picked him up from hours ago for their so perfectly scheduled hang out, no cameras, no fans - if this kid even had any - but just him, his soft best friend and a whole bunch of wine bottles he had taken from his dad's collection. Not like that man would even notice if any of them went missing in first place...
What had Grayson even been talking about? He had entirely missed out onto the whole point of this conversation up to the point that his so hyped and quite tipsy rookie singer got up from his spot on the ground - or rather he tried to, the wine apparently having kicked in quite well because the next thing the younger boy knew was that he was laying beneath the older down on the ground, their limbs a tangled and aching mess as he had been crashed by the surprisingly heavy weight of the so slender looking dancer. But even in such compromising situation, why did this kid just not shut up? Had he missed out on the heir not once paying attention to his talking? In his mind he entirely blamed it on the drinks he himself had already consumed, cutting his temper short as he just reached up to grab his friend by the neck and yank him down, crashing their lips together in a less skilled way than he was originally supposed to. Smooth one, Weijun, really smooth...
