“you living closely with two attractive women and feeling nothing.” he replies simply, tone dancing near the realms of teasing and sheer amusement. “you’re not switching teams are you? because i didn’t call you to end up waking up spread eagle in your bed.” a significant pause, mind befuddled and slower to process as he takes a breath, words slipping freely. “no homo.” wait.
“no—does that even make sense?” sehun shakes his head, mouth spontaneously drying within seconds as he struggles to generate more saliva in his mouth, briefly wondering if an invitation of another’s tongue in his mouth would solve that particular problem quicker. “club—? yes…i think… this is a…club.” finishes, albeit dumbly, the soles of his shoes heavier than sehun last remembered as he slips up the steps off the dance area—grin twisting as he offers the beautiful woman in passing a wink, hand ghosting over full hips.
“what was that?” it had slipped his mind completely that he was on the phone, half lidded eyes lowering to the number written across his palm—“when did that get there?”—before he focuses once again on his friend’s words, continuing on with the hunt for the bar. “women. lots of women—cheap perfume—giant apple.”
“i can’t tell if the apple’s real or just me.”
at the very least—he’s honest.
"god, you're a fucking dumbass. not everyone chases after the first pair of legs they see wearing a skirt." every once in a while, han finds himself amazed by this; rendered to a brand of disbelief that leaves him speechless after for a moment or two until he gathers his own thoughts again, "i've got higher standards than man-whores, sehun-ah."
ruthless. it's been far too long since he's been anything but civil and the negator finds himself almost relishing in the venom dripping off his tongue, laced with heavy-handed humor, "no, it doesn't make sense--you're high as hell."
the taste in his mouth is bitter, but his lips remain curved into a bright, gritting smile. a chuckle slips out, masking the faint echoes of worry han elects to ignore as he pulls out of the garage and makes the drive in the general area of the nightlife district. there aren't many other places that clubs are clustered, and his friend frequents them enough that he's vaguely aware of which is which. vaguely.
maybe he needed to get out more.
"dumbfuck." han mutters back in response to the question, gripping the steering wheel idly as he nears the neon lights of established tucked into darkened alleyways. silver, blue, electric purple; his gaze flicks between them until a neon outline of apple shines in the dark--lipstick red.
"i'm shocked. there's a giant apple. if you wander off before i get there, i fucking swear i'm going home and going to sleep... and you can just deal with your saggy, wrinkly cougars."
with that, he tosses his phone into the passenger seat and pulls into a small parking lot at the side of the building. in no more than a minute, he ducks into the club with a look at the surprisingly non-existent line. upon stepping inside, however, han suddenly understands why the line is empty.
