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Seongdeuk isn’t really sure what he’s doing out with the management team, they barely talk to him except when he’s yelling at one of boys for messing up the choreo during a performance stage and they haven’t invited any of the rest of the dance crew along this evening. Yet here he is sandwiched between Hyunsoo and Hobeom, trying desperately to keep up with amount of alcohol everyone at the table is consuming.
“Here let me top you up,” Hobeom mumbles unnecessarily close to his ear. Seongdeuk’s stomach drops as the soju bottle empties into his already near-overflowing glass. He leans over to take a swig and winces at the hangover he can already feel brewing behind his eyes, he’s not exactly looking forward to the morning.
“Deukkie!” Jaegeun exclaims like he’s just realised Seongdeuk exists, “Deukkie, Deukkie, Deukkie…I can call you Deukkie right?”
Seongdeuk nods slowly, Jaegeun laughs annoyingly loudly, “Ahh Deukkie, why’d you never come out with us?”
“Um…” because you guys hardly know me? Because you guys are really loud and obnoxious and I’m kind of quiet and shy and hate being seen in public with loud obnoxious people? “you guys never asked me before.”
Hyunjoo looks confused, “but Hobeom’s always talking about you.”
He can’t keep the expression of bewilderment from his face. Luckily Jaegeun and Hyunjoo spot a pretty waitress on her way back to the bar before Seongdeuk can point out that him and Hobeom sit on opposite sides of the dance studio during rehearsals and have exchanged fewer than ten nonprofessional words in the entire three years they’ve known each other.
Seongdeuk’s phone buzzes; he prays it’s providing him with a handy route out of this mess of a social interaction.
Alas! The number that comes up is Hobeom’s: I thnk ur rly hot
Seongdeuk blinks at his phone. A host of questions fly across his mind, everything from ‘since when?’ to ‘how did you get my personal phone number?”
He looks from the text, to Hobeom (sporting a deep red blush that Seongdeuk expects can only partially be blamed on the alcohol), then back to the text. He doesn’t feel like playing interrogator this evening,
“Fuck it,” he mumbles, before downing the rest of his drink and leaning over to plant the sloppiest kiss he can muster on Hobeom’s cheek.
In the morning the memory will be mortifying enough to cause a mini heart attack, but right now the squeak Hobeom makes is enough to have Seongdeuk rolling on the floor laughing. Maybe he can manage loud and obnoxious after all.