Baby, It's You.

Mark

A party was the last place he wanted to be right now. But, of course, he chose a friend who's solution to dealing with problems is to ignore them. Vincent, however, was not that type. He'd much rather be home to process them so he wouldn't blow up. Henry, though, said he just "needed to get some fresh air". So, here he found himself sitting at a bar, talking to a company sponsor  he could care less about. He supposed it was good to go to company events like this, but at the same time, he wished he could just... go home.
The last thing he needed was to see Scott right now.
Not after what happened. 

The party had been pretty uneventful for the time being. Loud music blaring in his ears, small talk with company sponsors, sneaking off to the bathrooms to smoke. Comparatively normal to how parties usually went for him.

But tonight? When Scott walked through that door?

He felt a level of confusion that he didn't even know was possible. His face burned, but his chest ached with missed kisses. He was hurt. Hurt was a good way to put it. But when he saw him walk through the doors, he didn't want to be hurt.
He wanted Scott. 
And Scott looked good.

Scott entered through the front two doors, accompanied by Mike and a woman Vincent didn't quite recognize. Not that he cared too much about anyone around him. No, he had far more interesting things to focus on.
His attention was on Scott.
He had a white button up on, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie was neatly wrapped around his neck, and Vincent followed it down to the slacks he wore. Such a simple outfit, something he wouldn't look twice at on anybody else. But on Scott? The way the belt hugged his waist, how the shirt shifted with every step he took. The power, the hold he had over Vincent without even realizing it.

Vincent wanted to ravish him. He wanted to grab him and inspect every part of him, his outfit, his body. His entire being. That slim, tall figure. The exact type to compliment Vincent's own.

He wanted Scott.

Scott didn't just look good physically; he looked good emotionally, too. Vincent wasn't sure which aspect messed with his head more.

Was Scott thinking about him at all? About what happened?

Vincent turned back to the man he had been speaking with, forcing a grin. He took a few sips from his drink, shifting back on the bar stool he was on. Asshole was blocking his view. Vincent nodded dismissively to the small talk, and peeked over the other guy's shoulder. The man in front of him droned on, pausing when he noticed Vincent not paying attention whatsoever.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah- uhm...." Vincent squinted. Shit. He lost Scott. How you could loose somebody that tall in a crowd was beyond him. He set his drink down on the bar, standing up. He couldn't have gone too far. Vincent shifted to squeeze between two other patrons, heading off towards the main dance floor. He could hear the sponsor behind him call out for his attention, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

"Mr.Afton? I was-... Okay."

-

LEDs made the room spin, or maybe just appear to be spinning. It didn't matter too much, either way it was confusing. Easy to get lost in. Which is exactly what he did.

Vincent let out a small yelp as some straggler dancers bumped into him, pushing him into the tighter crowd. The inner pit was packed, bodies pressing against Vincent in ways that made his skin crawl. He'd need to shower when he got home. But if he knew Scott and Mike, (and unfortunately he did), they'd probably be in this group anyway.

Vincent shuffled through the crowd of people, swarming and grouping without any care for others trying to get past them. Thankfully, he came across a small clearing within the crowd, an assumed safe space. But if he knew any better, he wouldn't stay for long. The crowds moved too often. So, instead, he used the haven to examine the scene in front of him.