Anonymous asked: OTP?
I know, Hyungie.
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`Replies I owe:
L.Joe almost spit the last bit of his drink out when the scene across the throbbing room because nightmarish as a certain somebody decided it would be a nice time for him to projectile vomit onto the walls, which had been pasted over with posters and fliers advertising the next set of dance, karaoke and drink-mixing battles. That sort of sickening thing was an everyday - every night, really - occurrence at any venue that served drinks and loud music, but still that didn’t make it any less disgusting when it happened. L.Joe could never imagine himself being the guy who threw up everywhere and he hoped he would never have to be in those shoes. That was beyond embarrassing and even someone like him, who walked away from humiliation with a shrug of his shoulders and a smile that told people it didn’t bother him as much as it humoured them to think that it bothered him, that would be something he would never be able to let down, even as himself. And surely Niel wouldn’t let him forget it either. He was sure to be the butt of vomit jokes for the rest of his life, because as if the height ones weren’t enough coming from the other boy and when the question was posed L.Joe gave his signature shrug that basically told people to hold on as he finished the whatever-it-was in his glass and set it down on the nearest flat surface.
“I was feeling lonely,” L.Joe knew Niel had a boyfriend, and he knew his boyfriend, and that was what made him comfortable with riling either of them up by being extra-clingy or throwing sweet-nothings at both of them. He meant no harm in pretending to hit on either of them, he was just that average class-clown who enjoyed being the guy pried off by others because he was being an all-round idiot. “So I came to visit you so you could keep me company,” L.Joe grabbed another drink off a tray that was being passed around, trying not to think of the odd colour or how it had just been passed through a couple dozen hands and probably contained something lethal or at the very least disgusting. Lifting it to his lips, he gave Niel a wink and suppressed the laughter that was building up in his throat at the expression this elicited, throwing the drink back and wincing as it burned down his throat. “How’ve you been though?” he managed to croak after he was done, sure that he’d probably just done a vodka shot without knowing it. He wasn’t great with alcohol, least of all vodka. But only as a personal preference.
There was one thing Niel hadn’t mentioned in his complaints from a while ago. Just an hour ago, his phone sent an automatic text to Ricky’s phone; I don’t think this can work anymore. See other people if you want, but i’m just moving on. This is not a prank and keep the ring if you want. It’s the end for us. He had his reasons and he sure as hell didn’t want to be bombarded with questions by others, so he broke it off in the most discreet way. Of course, it was the worst way to do it, but at least he didn’t have to see the tears that usually weakened his heart. It was the worst event of the night, which was why he turned off his phone. If anyone calls him a bad man, they can blame his father. He never showed him how to care for loved ones; the only thing he knows from that man is how to make your gay son run away from home and never turn back.
Niel blinked as L.Joe winked at him. Sometimes he wonder if the short male was dropped on his head as an infant. The last time he hung with L.Joe, many eyes gave him a disapproving look. It’s not his fault that the latter decided it was time to play and shouted ‘WHY WON’T YOU SUCK ME?!’ He cleared his throat and looked at all the drinks around them. “I just broke up with Changhyun and I could use a drink. Interpret that in any way you desire to.” Before L.Joe could call over the bartender, Niel grabbed his wrist. “Not here. The bartenders know everything about me.” On the walk out, Niel promised that he wouldn’t be a crying or slutty drunk bitch, and he also promised not to ruin the night. He mentally hoped.