He really was not in the mood. It had been a frustrating day, and he hadn’t been looking forward to meeting another client at night. But jobs had to be done, so there he was, sitting in a small booth with a man who apparently didn’t understand the meaning of personal space. He gave the man a smile, careful not to let it come across as strained. After emptying his sixth glass of scotch, and his client was officially drunk. A few carefully placed words here, another few light touches there, and the secrets came tumbling out of the other’s mouth.
Once he had all he needed, Jaebum made to leave. He only gets as far as two steps away from the booth when he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, another grasping at the back of his shirt. “Where dyou think you’re going,” he hears the man slur. He isn’t sure what prompts his temper to flare, maybe it’s the accumulated stress from the week, maybe there’s just something about the man that sets him off. Whatever it is, it launches Jaebum into defense mode, and without a second thought, he has the man flipped over his head, landing tailbone first on the hard marble floor.
Jaebum blinks, looking at the man who just had the breath knocked out of him. That was definitely a Doyoung move. Well shit. At least the man is probably drunk enough not to remember what happened, much less his name or face in the morning. People are starting to turn around at the commotion, so he decides it’s better to leave before the police are called and hightails it out of the bar. It won’t hit him until later, that had he not flipped the guy, he would’ve likely ended up battered and bruised like so many other times.
The moment he gets outside, Jaebum breathes a lungful of fresh air and flips his hood up, striding quickly along the street and heading home. He’s not exactly far from home, so he figures calling a cab would be unnecessary.
