{ᴡᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ}–

keybums:

He scoffed, squinted eyes never drifting far from the day old bean who’s mid pinch seemed especially pinchy today. “Hard not to when you’re the one getting ignored.” His pitch somewhat spiked at the end of his sentence and there’s a scoff, a mumble and he meets his phone’s screen with a scowl. “I really hate it when you do stuff like that.”

When he isn’t immediately smacked with an insult it feels foreign. The icing on the cake should have been the smug grin that paraded onto his lips but receiving nothing he squints, casts a skeptical look his way. Honestly it was sort of sad how dependent their relationship had become on banters; it had become a mechanism of a sorts to whisk the awkwardness under the rug.

 ”What are you? The NPA? Don’t quit your day job.” He tried to silence him with a vicious swipe of the hand, “Stop asking so many questions, you’re going to ruin it.” He should have been at least slightly nervous considering the bar’s theme. But risk and fun came hand in hand and he assured himself that he had ‘nothing to lose’ and whether this was true or not ( probably not ) he’d never neglect to indulge and indulge again the best way he could.

” So that’s why you’re dressed like a starving artist slash mime- to pay homage to one of the greats. He pinched the material on Jaejin’s upper arm, stretching the fabric an inch away from his skin  then fiddling with the other arm’s cuff. “Seriously, you look like the Korean Picasso with this on. What kind of friend would I be if I’m on my fourth beer and you’re outside on the corner trying to get your first?” 

He nabbed his wallet and whisked a card out, raising it to the Gods as he swayed rhythmically in his seat. “Tonight’s on Jjong!!!”