who?: s.coups/seungcheol x reader
response to @svtwritenight‘s prompt 2: character A has unexpectedly run into character B. Write something that answers these questions: where are they, and why is it surprising to find B there?
It’s three drinks in when Seungcheol realises that the bar Mingyu picked has a live band. Tucked into the dim front corner, by the long window is a trio - a drummer, a guitarist and a singer. Jun and Mingyu are rowdy, so much so that the english cover can barely be heard. The thickly lacquered wood table is sticky under his shot glass and Jeonghan giggles at how flushed he is already. Seokmin has his head tipped back, already passed out, wedged between a sober Vernon and Wonwoo. The lighting is dim enough to be warm, even as the exposed yellow bulb swings low above them. His back is to the band, but Seungcheol doesn’t pay any mind, too distracted by the drinking game in front of him that he was about to lose…again.
It’s six…no, seven, drinks in when the final strum of the set vibrates against his back.
“Okay, we’re gonna take a twenty minute break, thanks guys!”
The voice is familiar, but the young man can’t put his finger on it. Mingyu’s head is lolling on his neck as he whines about how drunk he is. Seokmin is awake again and finding every breath funny. Jeonghan nudges him insistently with a bony shoulder.
“C'mon, cheollie. Your shout this round.” He cheers. “Cheollie, cheollie, cheollie!”
He rolls his eyes but nods with a smile, holding his hand up for an attendant. Waving it with a bit of distorted impatience, Seungcheol stands to look for someone’s attention. His elbow jabs someone who squeaks in pain.
It’s then the recognisable scent of heady florals stabs him, forcing him to turn. Narrow pupils and ajar mouth meet him. It’s a version he’s seen too many times.
“S-Seungcheol - I, uh Cheol?” You splutter, similarly shocked.
Of course it’s your favourite perfume that he recognises. The same always settled into your skin, that seeps into his shirts when you hang out.
“What are you- You said you were busy tonight.” He says, hand still in midair.
Zero drinks and two nights ago, he’d invited you out for drinks with them. Hassled you seeing as you hadn’t been seen since before the lunar new year. Something you swiftly turned down with a teary emoji and other arrangements. A rain check.
You fidget on the spot, tugging and playing with the long moonstone pendant on tonight. The rapper finally gets a chance to take in your attire. A pair of jeans and a thin top and stylish dark jacket.
“I-I am. I have been. I, uh will be.” You say, evasive.
Cheol is seven drinks in when he hears your name being called over the chatter of the bar from the corner where the music came from. The lanky guy on the cajón holds up a cranberry coloured drink in one of his hands. You nod in a gesture to stall.
“Why is the drummer calling for you?” He says slow, the flush on his face fading with growing sobriety.
You twist the metal chain even more, eyes on anything but him. You shrug.
“I may be in….” He doesn’t catch the end of your sentence. You clear your throat. “I’m the singer in a band. Me and a couple of guys from my old communications class started up a cover band. This is a regular gig of ours.”
“You sing?” He says, bewildered.
You laugh from a combo of his lack of filter and the sweet painting of red across his face. “Yes. And I’m not bad at it.”
Seungcheol is seven rapidly sobering drinks in when he realises that one of his closest friends and not so secret object of his affection sings like an angel. You touch his bicep and show a hasty smile.
“I gotta go. But I’ll be here for another hour and a half. Maybe see you then?” You chirp.
He nods dumbly, even as he is unsure if he and the boys will last that long. “S-sure.”
