Childish imagination immediately went into overdrive, as the other actually attempted to count out his age on nimble fingers, only to abandon the chore. Since he did not confess how old he was, Jinyoung assumed he was a drinker of virgin’s blood. Or a vampire. Possibly both. Obviously, the male had spent too much time watching horror films, but as long as Chanshik didn’t try to eat him, he was fine with whatever his true supernatural form might be. The sight of the supposed elder drinking as well came as a surprise to the shop owner, still not entirely convinced of his vast age. Though it didn’t make much sense for a high schooler to own an arcade, as fitting of a cliche eighties film plot as it was it. He took a few more sips of his colorful concoction, embracing the heat now spreading through his face and limbs, as he always did. “Of course I’m big enough, I’m always big enough,” he tittered in reply, obvious smirk gracing full lips, “And please— I don’t cry.” No need to mention the fact that he was almost brought to frustrated tears, an hour or so ago, over a stuffed animal, of all things.
"If you think that embarrassing myself is enough to wear me out, then you’ve got another thing coming." Inflated ego spread to the male’s thin chest, puffing it out in pride. While he had most definitely lost to machine earlier in the evening, racing games were more Jinyoung’s style, his forte, and he simply didn’t lose. At the garnered knowledge that there was not a Super Nintendo on the premises, he couldn’t help but wonder what they were going to do, to have their competition. They could go to his place, sure, because every video game system was tucked away neatly inside its walls, but would his new comrade be up for that? Then slightly dizzy head turned to where dark eyes were staring, and a small ‘oh’ dropped from gaping mouth. That made sense. Well, as long as it didn’t cost money. "Let’s do it then! And I’ll try not to brag too much about how I kicked the ass of the guy who owns the place, though I can’t make any promises, got it?"
With another unsightly slurp of his drink, Jinyoung practically leapt up and ran over to one of the machines, with a chair attached. Nostalgia hit him like a freight train, as fingers gripped at the steering wheel, even going so far as to give it a few test spins. “I haven’t played on one of these in years,” he admitted quietly, the smile across his face refusing to turn down its sheer volume. Once the other situated himself in the chair next to his, the eager male took it upon himself to select a track (a desert track, with lots of turns and annoying cliff jumps) and a car (bright red, his favorite color), because after the humiliation he suffered, he had the right to, dammit. “Are you ready?” he chirped, before starting the level. As soon as automated announcer counted down, Jinyoung sped off, hopefully to leave his friend in the pixelated dust.