GOTHBOIAND♪WALKIN'ONSUNSHINE♬ contrast man, contrast - from a cold and elegant god to a bright and radiant teenager.
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It's a typical Saturday night and Y/N is out getting that cash at Rake, a shady underground bar popular for its big tiddy hostesses and youthful hosts. No, he's not a server there, only a bartender at where all the crowd is at which means shit gets busy as fuck. But Y/N doesn't mind, because who would if they could stare at pretty and refined boys all night plus some nice asses as a bonus.
"So how old are you?" Y/N brings up a question to the young man at the bar. He scans the shelf of glass bottles for the Vodka requested while also continuing, "You look bordering underage."
"I'm literally twenty this year!" babyface defends himself friskily, dust of pink painting over his cheeks, clearly the previous glass of alcohol is getting to his skin.
"Ahahah, well to me you definitely look like a snack to those older women or even men." Passing the glass of Vodka to the young man, Y/N moves closer to his ear and says, hot breath tickling against his skin, "You gotta be careful down here, don't take drinks from strangers and don't ever leave your glass unwatched."
The young man's smile clots for a second. "What about you then? You look about my age, just a little shorter," he changes the subject oddly.
Y/N goes along with it and answers, "Me? I'm seventeen, not legal but this place isn't too, so who really gives a fuck around here."
"Good point." The young man chuckles and inclines in agreement.
"Anyways, you lookin' for any f-"
"Ohohoh!" a raucous laugh cuts off Y/N. From the entrance of the underground bar, a guy in a black cloak smacks the back of the man that came with him, poking fun of him, "This place has some nice looking girls, maybe you wanna try getting yourself some pussy while you're at it here?"
Goth boy clinks his tongue, "Shut the fuck up, Twice. We're here to have a meeting, not fuck around." Head twisting in a stoic demeanour, he lours at his companion, turquoise pupils faint with venom slithering slyly at the edges.
The several guests at the bar hush down for a second, all getting the frigidity from goth boy's tone of voice but soon return to normal, only more wary of their surroundings. Everyone here is familiar with the underground rules - even if you hear something or see something, you don't; mind your own business, or you might end up found floating across a river one day, dead.
Y/N peers at goth boy there from the side of his eyes, pouring the Whisky into the glass for the guest in front of you. A cold beauty. Not mentioning those eyes, albeit his face is wreathed with purple patches, you can still tell that before those stitches adorned his face he was definitely hot as fuck (not saying that he isn't now). Picturing some R18 shit in his mind, Y/N wets his ashen lips with a suspicious shine in his eyes as he ogles at goth boy.
