.dripped in
he feels out of place, leaning against the hood of a shiny car he could only ever dream of affording. the keys jingle quietly in his tight grip and he crosses his arms over his chest, ducks his head lower into his collar to avoid passing people ogling at the heavily inked and cheap looking man sitting on a very expensive car.
‘ take one of my cars ’ is what the boss said to him, tossed the keys at him like it was no big deal and then told him with a dismissing wave of his hand to, ‘ take the boy home. ’ the boy being no one other than his too cute, too lethal of a young thing that he likes to keep on his arm. minsu isn’t blind. it’s his job to watch over the girls-- a self title house mom, and he knows hoojin. how can he not?
everyone knows him.
there’s a game, a terribly dangerous and risky game that they’ve been playing, dancing around each other with loaded looks and unsaid desires. it makes minsu’s blood run hot-- in more ways than one. he’s not going to lie and say there aren’t a few singed holes in his sheets from when he’s woken up from a particularly riveting dream involving the dancer.
“it took you long enough.” he mumbles, pushing off the hood of the car, catching the other with a pointed look when he finally emerges from the club. “i thought you’d never come on outta there.”
@saudxdes