↱MUSE↲ ⇾seongjoong⇽

✎𝓈𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Hongjoong hurls his bag into the living room, unflinching as the sound of glass breaking resounds in the small space.

He's so furious— so incredibly angry at the blatant disrespect Seonghwa has shown him.

This afternoon was by far the worst, calling his boss just to scold Hongjoong like a petulant child and then cornering him like a wild animal.

Not to mention whatever the fuck happened when Seonghwa had pulled him to the ground, faces close while he whispered in a tone that made Hongjoong ache.

What kind of coworker does this shit?

Throwing open his fridge, Hongjoong surveys the selection of liquor, reaching for a bottle with shaky hands.

As soon as his fingers wrap around the cool neck, he pauses, remembering the chiding of a tinkling voice.

Blinking away the memory, he shuts the door, grabs his keys, and ventures out into the night in search of that voice once more.

__

He isn't sure if Wooyoung will even remember him, but to his surprise, the coy dancer's face lights up at the sight of Hongjoong loitering in the lounge with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

He doesn't wave the elder over, instead he turns on his delicate bare feet and makes his way through the crowd, daring Hongjoong to follow without so much as a word.

Hongjoong does.

Wooyoung is seated on the same velvet couch nestled into the same curtained alcove.

Hongjoong is pretty sure that these spots are reserved for lap dances or other more questionable things, but oddly enough, he finds the space comforting after their last encounter.

"Come sit, Lucky." Wooyoung pats the spot next to him gently.

His long fingers are heavy with rings, glittering in the light.

When Hongjoong sits stiffly, the dancer lets out a sigh.

Tonight he's wearing a crimson satin robe that shows a peek of smooth chest and his eyes are lined tightly with smokey black.

"Have the dreams come back?" he questions with an airy voice full of concern.

Hongjoong shakes his head slowly, still scolding himself for the three-hour conversation he had with this man earlier in the week.

He didn't exactly know how Wooyoung made him feel at ease enough to discuss his issues that night, but he did, and now the dancer was the only soul in the world that knew of Hongjoong's struggle.

"No. I do my best to avoid them," Hongjoong admits, shrugging.

He tries to ignore Wooyoung's intense gaze and the way he trails a soft pink tongue over extremely plump lips.

Wooyoung clicks his tongue in disapproval, leaning over to brush Hongjoong's hair from his eyes.

"I thought I warned you about drinking so much. It's not good for you."