LIT.
@athaza
he laughs, and it sounds like a drunken sort of reverence, the kind that has believers of blind faith, his salvation in a secular age.
which is just a nice way of saying, he’s got no fucking idea what the other guy just said, but he’s hot, so he’s gonna laugh at whatever he just missed. jooha takes another sip of the drink he’s snatched off of a random table, undoubtedly too strong for how much he’s already had to drink but the rapid, irregular beat of his heart that’s trying to jump in time to the low bass that some frat boy put on at least makes him feel more fucking alive than the whole week put together.
“hyung,” he says, and he leans against the other guy, close enough to let the guy’s hands to brush against his ass, his smile blatant, pupils blown. what’s one more nameless notch on his bedpost, one more brief attempt at feeling alive under someone else’s hands, someone he won’t be seeing ever again after tonight. frat parties aren’t usually his scene, but for today ( and this actual adonis of a guy, though he doesn’t know if that’s just the alcohol talking ) he’ll make an exception.
“wanna get out of here?”