* 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘,

keeping his voice quiet knowing that they're in public, he takes a step closer to jaeyoon; unafraid. "or was it something else about me that got on your nerves? like, does being a dick to someone younger and smaller than you make you feel all big and strong? how pathetic..."

the first domino to fall is always the hardest. then, it becomes a matter of inertia: free fall, let the destruction trickle, one centimeter by the next — till what's left is nothing more than the snarl he carves together and the second-hand ripples of nonchalance that starts to prime his brows flat.

laughter from dodam comes at the splitting hairs of his own patience, and the retort chips away at it even further. there's already echoings of a meeting that stamps his name with the consequential admonishment he can chisel out from a mile away. but now, there's no sense of paying attention: everything becomes a moot point.

tonight, he'll let inertia play its own role, and he'll become nothing more than the manifestation of gravity.

the half-hearted stunted laughter dies as soon as it hits the space between them. his gaze flickers towards the corner of the room, and by now, it's the presumptuous humor that centralizes the thrum of his voice. "you think i'm boring, yet what are you?" his eyes drift towards dodam, narrowed in. "you're a fucking stereotype — no originality, one-dimensional. if i'm honest — you're really weird as fuck."

by now, there's no attempt at hushing the masses nor is there a reason to conceal the hungry eyes of the room. after all, every reaction has an equal and opposite reaction — jaeyoon's just manifests in a waging war he refuses to lose.

"can talking shit about company seniors be passed as a pathetic 'oops' because you're a walking stereotype?" his teeth press against his tongue down before the waves of whiskey begin to take full-force. loosening his spine, his voice tapers:

has he ever felt insecure knowing that, in many ways, he crosses off a lot of the boxes of what people think it is to be a stereotypical gay man in modern society? of course—that goes without saying. he's been teased for possessing these characteristics for many years now. however, regardless of how flamboyant he is, or how feminine his mannerisms are, or how he's not afraid to use the full range of pitch his voices offers when emphasizing his points, he finds it unfair to be callously lumped into a category of people instead of being seen as an individual, especially by someone who doesn't understand him, and never will.

"okay?" he replies, shrugging his shoulders. "the thing is, i'd be more upset if you actually knew who i was, but i know that you don't, so frankly, i don't trust your judgment of me, hyung." he'd call him sunbae, but as far as dodam's aware, he's been in the industry longer than jaeyoon has, so that wouldn't apply here. "me calling you boring is subjective, not an attack on you as a person. knowing that you took it as one speaks volumes about how you feel about yourself, though." it's now when he realizes that the intense energy that surrounds them may be permeating through the atmosphere, making him even more aware of the fact that they're in public.

"phaze was great tonight, right?" he begins, sighing sweetly. "they're all so hot... like, i don't understand how the stage underneath them didn't melt because of it." despite the decrease in alcohol-induced elation, he's clearly still loose-lipped... whoops. "blue and chaea were okay, too, i guess. i... wasn't really paying attention, i won't lie." it's then when he's given his vice, and before he tosses it back in one gulp, he looks to the other once more. "oh, do you want one, too? it's peachy... like me!"

blink once, and the stage flashes by quicker than you know it. blink again, and the night's subdued into a long deranged, slow-motion of warped hellos and goodbyes from the bodies in the periphery. luckily, he learns a little trick here and there — years of flitting in the same circles primes him to know, a quick one-two glass of whiskey straight down presses play on life once more.

one quick scan around the room, he spots chaea and the grumblings of a fight to be delicately plucked and disseminated into hell for another hour. across the other side of the room, there's seoho — he'll save that quick cigarette break after the next round. so, for now, joo jaeyoon plays the card of anonymity, just for this hour.

back at the bar, his fingers tap against the grain of some house music that's bumping bass through the speakers. the evening's already slipping past his hands, and he's lost himself to the daze of alcohol now thrumming in his veins. mood light, he motions with his free hand for the bartender for the next round: uno mas, an omen for a good night (he hopes).

but god damn, tonight's not his night.

instead, the omission of his own morsel of patience becomes splintered — straight down the middle. where his mouth hesitates into faux pretenses of ignorance is bliss, his ears catch on quickly. first call out, his own name. the second, a friend.

his face grimaces, brows furrowing to the indiscreet shrill of a voice now echoing on. one quick glance to his left — his patience: zero.

most of the time, at least when it comes to confrontations such as this one, the cherubic quality of his features allows him to escape unscathed; the plumpness of his cheeks, the twinkle of his gaze, the pouty shape of his lips — they paint a picture of innocence, much to his chagrin sometimes. however, he doesn't get the impression that joo jaeyoon—especially someone like joo jaeyoon—will soften toward him in that way, so instead of relying on his pristine visual for back-up, dodam knows now that he needs to become a formidable foe.

at the root of it all, he's never been the type to cower. maybe he should be. it would save him from a lot of arguments. that'll never be true to who he is though, so instead of bowing his head and skulking away with his tail between his legs after the clear grossness of jaeyoon's words, dodam turns his entire body toward his senior, properly facing him now, then literally laughs out loud; half at the soloist's expense, half in a way that makes it seem like he was just told a hilarious joke (as if jaeyoon is even capable of cracking one).

"wow... that was a lot of aggression for me saying that i didn't pay attention to you," he quips, then licks his lips. "what, are you so used to people bending over backwards to get a glimpse of you that, the mere idea of someone turning their head away from you makes you mad?" pausing, he takes a moment to give the other a once over, then grimaces; ensuring that his expression obviously displays disgust, even with the lighting being as low and moody as it is.

"look, i think you're boring. fuck me for having an opinion, i guess. it's all good though because i don't think i'm your target demographic anyway, so really, does having my attention even matter to you?"

"phaze was great tonight, right?" he begins, sighing sweetly. "they're all so hot... like, i don't understand how the stage underneath them didn't melt because of it." despite the decrease in alcohol-induced elation, he's clearly still loose-lipped... whoops. "blue and chaea were okay, too, i guess. i... wasn't really paying attention, i won't lie." it's then when he's given his vice, and before he tosses it back in one gulp, he looks to the other once more. "oh, do you want one, too? it's peachy... like me!"

daewon recognizes the voice before he puts a face and name to it. bright, curious, and bold—that can only be dodam. 

his gaze flickers between the faces in the crowd, surveying the exchange of conversation as currency: prying eyes that watch closely, craning their necks to hear a little more—all clearly trying to catch some scandal or industry secret. off to the corner, there’s jaeyoon laughing a little too hard at something an editor’s said, and weaving through the throng of bodies is haneul, his brows narrowed in a tension that daewon’s to fault for. 

“yeah, they were,” it’s a throwaway comment. he was distracted tonight; attention rarely fastened on the stage for more reasons than one.  

a part of him is embarrassed for being so stupefied by guys who possess traditional handsomeness and masculinity, but he genuinely can't help himself. men like daewon are his biggest weakness. tall with incredible proportions and strong musculature is one thing, but adding a face etched by divine hands on top of all that? it should be illegal. nevertheless, dodam's just glad he gets treated to being in daewon's presence every now and again. it's always a pleasure.

"just enough for you to have to keep an eye on me for the rest of the night..." he teases, an impish grin overtaking him. while high coverage cosmetics conceal any blush that stains his face, the lobes of his ears reveal that he's somewhat buzzed; his once pale skin resembling that of a strawberry's now. "i'm kidding. i'm alright, don't worry. this is probably my last one of the night." leaning a little further into him, he's close enough to feel daewon's body heat, but far enough that it's comfortable for them.

then again, that's just another reason why he likes dodam so much - honesty like this is a rarity when everyone is stuck on trying to be palatable. he's guilty of it himself; he'd never voice any negative opinions in a setting like this. he's too worried about saving face, too scared of burning bridges. the conversation shifts from one ridiculous topic to another (thankfully, this one is safer); daon had, in a way, asked for it. still, he huffs out an astonished laugh.

he accepts the shot-glass from dodam as he considers the ridiculous question at hand - honestly, he doesn't know who he'd be. he downs the shot, then shoots a mischievous look to his friend. "i think i'm bowser," he decides. he reaches over to grab dodam's shoulder and squeezes it.

sighing, he lets a half-smile tug at one corner of his mouth and decides to do his best to follow his senior's lead. it would be one thing if the only person in danger of getting devoured was him, but he would hate if his callousness had any negative outcome for daon. he's not the one spewing nonsense about other attendees. what he is doing, though, is being rather cute. dodam's never felt that particular spark between them. he chocks it up to him being too young and possibly too male for any of that, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy the squeeze to his shoulder and the sweet nothings.

he's gotten used to playing pretend with these men and wonders when it'll ever be real. all his friends tell him that he's still young and that he'll meet someone eventually, but he doesn't trust them. at least playing make-believe gives him a taste of something.

"i guess being held captive by you doesn't sound like that bad of a deal," dodam plays, scrunching his nose. "something tells me you'll find some way to make being all caged up fun. at least i hope you would... if not, don't underestimate me, hyung, i will find a way to escape and make your life a living hell." then, he pauses; vulpine gaze giving daon a proper once-over for the first time since they started talking. he's not super tall, nor is he extremely toned, but there's a handsomeness to him dodam appreciates.