» love dream
◦ genre: friends to lovers au, fluff
◦ pairings: reader x chan
◦ word count: 2.8k
◦ description: midnight bar adventures start with a bottle of henny and end with bang chan.
◦ warnings: explicit language & alcohol
one.
The night is young, but you think you're going to die if you sit at the bar any longer.
Everyone is at the bar. This quagmire of a bar that sits on the intersection of corporate downtown and the slums. The one with modern neon lights that contrast swimmingly with the jazz-age architecture. The one that college students have conquered because the founder of your university had built a college right there knowing damn well that there was a bar just a few blocks down—it's almost as if he's applauding the finesse of underage drinking.
So when the semester is over and the suitcases are packed, the crowded bar becomes astronomically overpopulated; and you think that you're definitely going to die if someone spills beer on your shoes again.
However, death is not an option tonight, especially if summer is within your grasp. Like a pot of gold shimmering at the end of the rainbow after a hellish downpour.
You decide to slide off of the barstool your ass has been occupying all night, bury your hands in the pocket of your jacket you've coerced yourself to wear, and try to navigate through the hazy bodies swaying lifelessly on the dance floor. Basically, you just want to get the fuck out of here, and your feet lead you to an outdoor seating area overlooking a dinky part of downtown.
A gush of fresh air greets you like a welcoming hug, and you feel like you can finally breathe when you're not surrounded by closeness, and alcohol, and fatigue.
"Fuck," someone curses behind you.
The owner of the voice happens to be Chan. Although not thoroughly surprised to see him at the same bar as you (because everyone is at the bar), you are thoroughly surprised to see him at the same bar as you because seeing him slightly tipsy with flushed cheeks makes your insides flutter, your head spin. You watch him carefully push in the chair he nearly tripped over and saunter his way towards you.
"God. How hammered are you?" you ask with a chuckle, leaning over the rail on your forearms, hands dangling in midair. Maybe if you reach far enough, you'd disappear and become one with the night.
"Had a beer two hours ago. I'm hardly hammered," he responds, taking the spot beside you.
"Okay. Are you here to sell me some drugs, Chan?"
Leaves rustling. Cars honking. Background chatters.
Chan tips his head back and laughs wholeheartedly at your inquiry, takes a deep inhale through his nostrils, serenity crawls into his skin. "I'm here because it's loud inside, but shit, if you want some drugs, I might know a guy," he chimes with a boyish smile curled upon his lips, dimples on full display.
"No thanks. I'm not about to lose my goddamn mind tonight."
"Well, what are you planning to do tonight?"
He's making you nervous. It has something to do with the dim lighting, the loud electronic music blaring inside the bar, the feathered shadows that caress his features immaculately—but maybe, it has something to do with the fact that you like him.
"I'm babysitting Woojin so that he won't make bad choices and accidentally hurt himself when squaring up with stupidly tall men," you say.
"Then what the hell are you doing out here when he's in there?" Chan muses with the quirk of an eyebrow.
