The way that Dragan spoke to him made him want to wrap his hands around his neck. It also made him want to teach him a lesson. He was probably use to everyone kissing his ass and worshipping the ground that he walked on. âContext clues, led me to my assumption. âAnd Iâm not sure why you assume the whiskey in my glass is shit. Itâs Blue Label, for your information.â
He hated that this brat made he want to go tit for tat with him. He was never the bickering type. He told people to fuck off and went about his day. But the mix breed had a hold on him that want to strangle him and kiss him all at once. âContrary to popular belief, my kind isnât all that friendly unless they are trained to be. And Iâve never been one to be trained to do anything that I donât want to do. So, keep your scratches. I prefer belly rubs anyway.â He smirked, Feng a bit playful.
Dragan had a mouth on him and he hated to admit it but he liked it. âAht aht. I never said youâd buy it. I only said youâd get it for me. Now, whoâs got memory loss?â He accepted the drink and took a sip, letting the bitter liquid coat his tongue. âItâs not one or the other, Dragan. Youâre every bit of both. Plus, I donât think think you need me to tell you that youâre hot. You know it.â He hadnât expected the younger man to invite him to his place but who was he to turn down anyone that looked like Dragan did? He may be a dick but he wasnât dumb.
âIf I didnât know any better, Iâd say that you think Iâm hot.â He lifted the glass to his lips, eyes locked on the heir. He finished the drink and set the glass back onto the napkin. âIâm not looking to end my night here. Iâll admit, you make me want to push you off of that bar stool but Iâd rather look at your ass than put you on it.â
âah yes, well sorry for insulting your seventy-two thousand won whiskey, if you want to keep drinking that we can put the imported shit I was going to give you back on the shelf.â there was a glint to his mismatched eyes, head tossing back to knock alabaster strands from his face. âyou gotta work on your detective skills then mr. oh, canât imagine why you would think I was anywhere near judgemental. come on iâm a mixed-breed, who am i to judge?â he teased, knowing well it was going to get a rise out of him, it was a specialty of his, usually garnered by gauging the competition but it was a different sense of pleasure seeing the way rage and attraction fizzled over his face.
the white dragon let the sweating glass marry his lips, the bitterness of the bourbon a welcomed burn across his reptilian tongue, tingling as it swirled in the confines of his esophagus, though it was met with a gentle chuckle, âhm well excuse me for thinking your were my friendly neighborhood stray wandering around the city,â he paused for a moment, âhmph, belly rubs. noted.â
his joke forced him to snort into his glass, having to suck the spillage up into his mouth before it dripped down his lips and over his chin. he reached for the onyx napkin, blotting it over his face and mouth, âmore like, maybe i happened to miss your wording, iâm not an old man like you, whatâre you like forty or something?â he teased in response. âyou can just say iâm hot you know, no need to add an insult to it to seem all huffed and full chested, you donât even sound convincing.âÂ
his glass emptied into his mouth, settling down on the marble top of the bar with a slight tink. with the napkin he held, he rid his palms of the condensation, letting the pause between them become fully pregnant. âIntriguing? maybe, but hot? sounds like youâre just trying to blow your own head up.â the smile was smug eyes casting onto the bar with a slight twink of bashfulness. âoh?â draganâs white brow raised in tandem, âwell then, follow me out.â