#hoya!

When the last of its patrons stumbles away, Scorpio's breathes a collective sigh of relief. Colored lights and booming bass fade to quiet nothingness; employees blink away bedroom eyes and batty lashes, stumble and laugh to shake off their self-projections. The transformation process is one that Hoya has never been quick to go under. He's used to lingering in the club after work to play games and chat and just be for a little while longer. Maybe there's a hint of reluctance to go back to being silly, stupid Lee Howon, but Hoya would never admit this. Instead, he's convinced himself of something he calls 'the calm,' the peace he can have no place, no time else.

They play beer pong like they do on many nights, casual, scattered whoops and yelps due to adrenaline and tight competition. Over the years, Hoya's gotten used to the weight and feel of the ping pong ball; he calculates angles and forces and becomes a contender for the best player in the club. 

The young man across from him, however, has yet to play enough to be confident in the same. He shoots, and the ball goes too far, past Hoya's body, and the club breaks out into laughter before the ball squarely hits the head of..

Things get quiet for a second. Hoya's seen the boy's face before. They've never talked, but he's sure he's seen the other male around somewhere, lingering in the corners of the club, finalizing deals with patrons.

( / they walk under stars and streetlights at three-thirty in the morning, side by side, steps slow. sooyeon’s company is comforting, and hoya is glad he can enjoy it, take a break after the dizzying intensity of the booming bass, the heat of scorpio’s. )

“i may have been admiring you not-so-secretly." ( / the words spill from her lips and into the evening air. hoya turns his head to regard her. )

( / sooyeon is beautiful, dazzling, a princess who belongs in the arms of a prince, one who’ll fight ogres and dragons for her, love her, kiss her after she’s pricked her finger on an enchanted spindle.hoya is not a prince.he’s baffled by the fact that sooyeon even openly acknowledges him, much less want to hang out with him. in all honesty, he admires her— a stable boy and his princess. )

hoya arrives for work two hours earlier than usual, at five p.m, when the sun is just barely dipping into the earth and the sky just barely dipping a shade darker. he arrives, and the club is empty, save a few employees milling about, getting ready for the evening's work. he arrives, and the club is blessedly quiet, chattering just a low murmur - not the usual edm remixes over the speakers, the usual shout here and there of the particularly drunk patron.

maybe he'd sooner fall in love with scorpio's if the club were always like this. maybe.

he's here at the request of his manager, who asked him to come earlier (something about a business meeting - very important, but hoya's memory has never been remarkable). sacrificing his sleep for more work - and consequently, more money - has always reaped its benefits, so hoya agreed, and here he is, in a place he knows well, but not like this. the manager leads him to one of the back rooms, the 'private' rooms, and hoya's eyes take in every detail-- the eerie glow of red lights, shadows on wallpapered hallways. they arrive at one of scorpio's biggest rooms, and he peers in, meekly. a long table sits at its center, lined with dozens of chairs, and it's almost a ghostly scene, a sad scene, that such a large room is filled with so much nothingness.

hoya is put in charge of seeing to it that by the time these chairs are filled with people, the feeling of nothingness is eradicated.

it's an easy job, really, because he doesn't actually have to do anything; he just needs to make sure things are being done. honestly, it's just like babysitting adults.  hoya stands to one side of the room and watches as everything around him slowly comes to life - brighter lights, simple decorations, a table of finger foods. check, check, check. he resists the urge to sit down in one of the swivel chairs and spin the minutes away.

at six-thirty, he's told to round up the employees working the event, and he does so, easily, because most of them are just spending their time waiting, restless and anxious to get things done. the only thing that confuses him about the list he's given is its last item: musician, one do kyungsoo. musician? hoya furrows his eyebrows. surely, they're not hiring a dj for this supposedly 'important' event? he brings the question up to his manager and gets scolded briefly for not listening. they've invited a classical musician for this meeting, to provide a 'casual but professional' atmosphere. it's something that hoya doesn't really understand because reading moods isn't exactly one of his strongest points. "okay," is his only response to the explanation. he's told their musician is waiting outside.

outside, the sky is dark, and the streets are only illuminated by scorpio's gaudy club lights, the twinkling stars, the white-faced moon. hoya's eyes immediately catch sight of a young man standing beside the front doors, unfamiliar, unknown.

The club goes wild. Drinks in the air. Hands to the sky. Bodies sway-ay-aying to the thumping of the bass. Hoya leans against the bar counter, mint julep in hand and lightslightslights in his eyes, velvety voice in his ears, and he relaxes. On nights like these, he can take it easy, take a break because Kim Jonghyun is on crowd control. Jonghyun's voice washes over the club and throws it into both a state of calm and of delirium, and it's strange - almost scary - how he's able to make the club breathe, live, get up on its feet and dance.

Hoya's convinced Jonghyun can make anybody do anything with that voice.

Hoya drums his fingers on the countertop, staring intently at the man in front of him, watching the frown, the downward arch of the lips. He isn’t good at comfort. He isn’t good at consolation. He doesn’t know what Sho wants him to say, and even if he did, he doesn’t have the words to say it.

Silently, he uncaps the bottle,slides it over to the other man,lifts his own glass to his lips.