☆ kim ☆ (mikijai) wrote,
☆ kim ☆
mikijai

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apple martinis, lemon vodka, and tequila

apple martinis, lemon vodka, and tequila
ftiexo | sehun/jaejin; pg-13; wc: ~2840 words
kibum drags jaejin to a club in hongdae and there he meets oh sehun.

warnings: underaged drinking
a/n: challenge for intoaclub, also title really has nothing to do with this, it just sounded cute.


It’s one of those nights where you’re lazy, motivated to do nothing rather than to do something. No one wants to put effort to leave the warm comforts of their bed just to attempt at socializing with your peers at this time of night (the clock above the occupied bed reads 8:03 PM and the sky is streaked with tints of red, pink and purple). Jaejin, a young man aged twenty-two, lies on his bed, watching reruns of One Piece on the television, ignoring the existence of his best friend and roommate, Kibum, who is impatiently tapping his foot on the carpeted floor. There’s thick tension in the air, one silently watching the Japanese animation on their small, abused television set and the other boring holes into their friend’s head.  A typical scenario within their apartment complex, usually ending in large arguments, loud yelling (Kibum) and tears (from Jaejin), quite the scene to witness.

“Jaejin,” the blonde starts, “we really need a guy’s night out.”

Jaejin rolls over onto his stomach and groans into his pillow. “That sounds gross, Kibum,” he whines, “you make it seem like we’re going to the mall or something.”

“That would be lovely, but it’s late and there are no good shops open at this time.”

“We could always head on over to the convenience store,” he suggests, “it’s open 24/7 and you can shop to your heart’s desire.”

Kibum gasps in disbelief, “How could you say that?” He gets a shrug in reply. “You’re impossible, why do we live together?”

Jaejin lifts his head up from his pillow, giving Kibum a glare. “Because you need someone to clean and cook for you,” he dead pans.

Kibum scoffs and rolls his eyes. “But seriously, guy’s night out.”

“Sounds more like girl’s night out,” Jaejin retorts.

“It’s only going to be us.“

Kibum manages to pique Jaejin’s attention. He rolls over onto his back and sits up. “No Jinwoon or Chulyong?” he asks. “Not even Woohyun.”

Kibum nods, “so how ‘bout it?”

“Where’s it going to be?”

“A club in Hongdae, don’t worry, it’s one I always go to,” Kibum grins.
--

They’re in front of neon lights, under the thick pungent smell of smoke and alcohol. The loud bass of the electro music pounds against Jaejin’s ears, his stomach begin to tie itself into a knot and to make everything better; he thinks he might vomit onto his best friend’s expensive tee and they haven’t even taken a single step into the building. He glances over at Kibum, glee written all over his face, he begins to regret letting the latter drag him to Hongdae just so they can “let loose” and “party until the break of dawn”. Kibum, of course, did promise no strippers, no gay bars, no drugs and sex or anything along the lines which he was glad for, but a club is still a club in Jaejin’s mind.

Apparently the club they were attending was clean, a high-end club filled with people their age. Kibum, also apparently, constantly frequented to the Purple Line (a ridiculous name for a club, but Jaejin will say nothing about it), but no one trusts Kim Kibum, no one does. The knot in Jaejin’s stomach tighten and he thinks maybe barfing on Kibum’s nice, expensive, designer-brand t-shirt is a brilliant idea. But of course Kibum is allowed into the club before Jaejin could do anything and of course the bouncer would stop him from entering.

The large, burly man connects the red velvet rope to a hook and scrutinizes the small man. Oh how he hates his life.

“Are you of age?”

Jaejin nods stiffly, “yeah.” He feels like crying, but no he must keep his tears in for he is a man and men don’t cry. “Do you want my driver’s license?”

The large man nods, eyes still raking over Jaejin’s body, taking in every detail, from his short stature, to his small face with rather large eyes (no one likes being baby-faced, it’s incredibly terrible especially when you’re twenty-two and still look like you’re sixteen), to his dark, messy hair with bangs that sweeps slightly above his eyes, to the clothing he’s wearing, a simple striped tee, comfortable, black cardigan, black skinny jeans and some vans. He pulls out his wallet and digs for his driver’s license. Finding it, he hands it to the bouncer, his name, date of birth, photo identification, everything is there to prove that, yes, he is indeed over twenty-one, of age to club, party and get drunk.

With a nod of approval he is finally let into the building. He lets out a sigh of relief and slowly creeps further into the club. He spots Kibum at the bar, cradling a small cup looking at Jaejin with an amused smirk.

“What was the hold-up?”

Jaejin runs a hand through his hair. “Guy wouldn’t believe that I was of age,” he answers.

Kibum stifles a laugh, “seriously?” He stares at Jaejin, tapping his chin. “Well, you do look like you’re still a little fishy in high school.”

“Lovely.”

A pat on the back and the blonde hands Jaejin his drink. “Well, loosen up a bit, Jin,” he happily says as he leaves his seat.

Jaejin grabs onto Kibum’s shirt, looking up at him with large eyes. “You’re not going to ditch me are you?” he asks, desperation apparent in his voice, he doesn’t want to be left alone at the bar. “I literally just sat down and you’re already leaving me.”

“The dance floor is calling for me,” Kibum says, eyeing the brightly lit floor, “so—“ He pushes Jaejin’s hands away and rushes to the center of the room, “bye!”

“Terrible best friend!” Jaejin hollers out, “I hope you step on a pile of Legos!”

He hears Kibum’s laugh faintly over the loud music and sighs, cradling the shot glass in his hands. He stares at the clear liquid and slightly wonders if he should commit murder, murder of a blonde by the name of Kim Kibum. He takes a sip at the alcoholic beverage and winces at the bitter taste.

He calls for another drink, a tequila (maybe he should be fancy and ask for an apple martini) and taps at the counter of the bar. He feels a hand tap against his shoulder, he turns and is greeted with a tall, blonde boy giving him a suggestive grin. He stares at the boy with a questioning gaze and wonders who the hell he is and if he knows Jaejin or not because you don’t just tap on a stranger’s shoulder.

“Do you need something?” he asks, looking at the boy warily, “because if you don’t, just go away.”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” the blonde boy says, giving him a strained smile.  Jaejin says nothing in reply and stares at the boy with a brow raised. Where was Kibum to save him from this kid? He didn’t come here to be told bad pick-up lines from someone that’s possibly twelve. Heck, even if the kid looks like he’s probably twenty-one, he reeks the smell of ‘A Possible Twelve Year Old’ as Kibum has told him once.

The boy stumbles a bit, toppling over Jaejin. He pushes himself up from Jaejin and brushes off the nonexistent dirt on his shorts. “Sorry, must’ve been an earthquake ‘cause I just fell for you,” he cracks, giving him the same strained smile.

Jaejin at this point has lost hope and wonders if the kid drank too much tequila or is incredibly high.

The boy continues to spill incredibly terrible pick-up lines and he just knows it’s going to be a long, long night with a main course called Extremely Terrible and a side dish of Annoying Twelve Year Olds Drunk on Tequila. More hope is lost as the awkward, tall, blonde kid continues to talk (“if you were a McDonalds meal, you’d be called the McBeauty,” he says, the need to vomit returns and he wouldn’t think twice vomiting on the poor kid) and he’s completely, one-hundred percent sure that the blonde kid shouldn’t even be here. By the tenth pick-up line thrown at him, his tequila finally arrives.

His eyebrows furrow together. He places his shot glass down and looks at the boy straight in the eye. “You should—“

“I’m Oh Sehun by the way and you’re pretty sexy,” the boy interrupts.

All Jaejin can do is blink and continue to be baffled for the rest of the night.

“But anyways, hey I just met you, so call me crazy and here’s my number,” the blonde kid—Sehun—conjures up a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it, “so call me maybe?”

“No,” Jaejin deadpans, “not in a million years.”

Sehun blinks, his stupid, forced grin presses into a thin line. “What?” His voice is more deadpanned and indifferent, the flirty tone is completely gone. Jaejin would’ve thought that maybe Sehun is a serious kid and that maybe, just maybe it was a stupid dare that sixteen year olds usually give out, but that small glimmer of hope dies when he opens his mouth again.

“But I’m like, awesome and cool and mature, and so suave. I’m the awesome-est person here,” he says all with a straight face.

There’s a long pause between the two. Jaejin doesn’t know whether he should laugh, cry or maybe do both at the same time. It’s obvious that Sehun thinks he can play it off well as someone older than twenty, but then he reeks the stench of a twelve year old.

“You’re not of age, are you?”

Sehun looks at Jaejin with large eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes when he realizes that there’s nothing to say.

“It’s pretty damn easy to tell,” he adds.

“B-But, I was being all mature and—“ he cranes his neck around, looking at the empty stool next to him, then the dance floor crowded with people. He curses under his breath and pulls out his phone. “Jongin ditched me,” he says in disbelief. Seems like he’s not the only one with the ‘friends who ditching you at the bar’ problem.

Jaejin looks at Sehun curiously with a brow raised. “Jongin?” he questions.

“He isn’t picking up!” Sehun cries out, entirely ignoring him, “oh voice mail. Jongin get your ass off the dance floor and save me from this awk—“ He glances over at Jaejin and quickly looks away, not even bothering to be discreet, “just awkward! Get me out!”

He hangs up his phone and slides it back into his pocket. Sehun turns to Jaejin –who looks like he’s offended, but also amused at the same time—with a cool expression, or an attempted one since he looks like he could piss his pants at any time. “So,” he says. “Uh—shit, hi?”

“So Sehun—“

“Before you say anything!” He gives Jaejin a wary look. “This entire pick-up line thing was all Jongin’s idea and it was a dare,” he explains. “It’s not like I thought you were actually sexy or anything.”

Jaejin raises a brow, a dare? He just thought the kid was drunk, but no he was completely sober and was trying to hit on him. Just for a stupid dare. A silly little dare that was possibly along the lines of, “first person you see at the bar, go hit on him and try to get his number,” or something idiotic along the lines of that.

“He dared me to hit on the first person I see at the bar and try to get their number!” Sehun looks down at his feet, “and it—er—happened to be you.”

Fuck his life. Just fuck it, of course he’d be lucky enough to fall victim for a stupid junior high dare. “How the hell did you even get in the club?” he groans, “you reek of ‘obvious twelve years old.”

“Hey! I am seventeen thank you very much.”

Jaejin gives the boy a pleasant smile, “say that louder so the bouncer can hear you.”

“What?”

Jaejin points to the big man standing near the exit and Sehun’s eyes widen. He downs his shot of tequila as Sehun starts spluttering incoherent words, pointing at the bouncer and looking at Jaejin with bewildered eyes. The blonde was embarrassing himself and Jaejin was just enjoying the show, maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

“Why didn’t you tell me that guy was right there?”

“I thought you would know.”

Sehun lets out a disgruntled, but quiet, screech, “but I didn’t!

“How did you even get in here?” questions Jaejin.

“Fake ID’s of course,” hisses Sehun. “Me and Jongin pass of easily as above twenty, so we got in with ease unlike you.”

Jaejin chokes on his drink, “w-what?”

Sehun smirks. “Yeah, we were like two-three people behind you.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Well then you shut up, uh— what’s your name?”

“Jaejin.”

“Shut up, Jaejin.”

He needs more alcohol in his system, he’s one-hundred percent sure he won’t be able to deal with his cheeky, self-centered, arrogant brat. He calls for an apple martini because why the hell not and Sehun does the same.

Jaejin frowns. “You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.”

Sehun snorts. “You’re not my mom,” he retorts.


A glass of apple martini and two shots of lemon vodka, Sehun is long gone, he’s shit-faced drunk and is singing the opening to Puella Magi Madoka Magica badly and looks like he could burst out into tears at any moment now. He finishes the song and stares at his empty shot glass with a blank expression. He turns to Jaejin and begins his long discussion about a character from Puella Magi and Jaejin asks the bartender to give him another shot of lemon vodka.

Two more shots of lemon vodka and a shot of tequila, Sehun is still talking about Mami Tomoe and he’s probably not going to stop. He doesn’t know how he’s still sober, actually half sober since he’s starting to feel giddy and he should probably ask for more alcohol. “And then—and then—Mami has to die and I was like, Jongin! She died! My favorite character is dead! Why do all my favorite characters have to dieeeeeeee?” He lets out a strangled sob and covers his face.

Jaejin doesn’t know if he should comfort the boy or laugh at him. “Uh—“

“And like, I don’t know.” The blonde sighs and stares at Jaejin with an odd expression. He continues to stare at him and Jaejin is starting to feel uncomfortable, why isn’t he as shit faced drunk as Sehun. “You’re actually pretty damn sexy,” he says, touching Jaejin’s cheek.

“Thank you?”

“Like seriously, if you were a meal at McDonalds, you’d be the McBeauty,” Sehun slurs out.

“Sehun, I think you’ve had enough,” Jaejin says.

“No! You’re not—you’re not… d-drunk yet! So you have to drink more!” Sehun declares, throwing his arms up into the air. “Hyuuuung, drink some more.”

“I need to find Kibum and—“

Sehun shoves a glass of vodka at Jaejin’s face and forces him to drink. Jaejin hesitantly complies and downs the rest of the alcohol. Sehun continues to force more drinks on Jaejin, he’s pretty sure he’s going to get alcohol poisoning if this continues, and by the fifth shot, the effects of the alcohol has finally kicked in. He’s sure he’s going to have a hangover in the morning, maybe vomit on Kibum’s expensive clothing and maybe, accidentally step on their dog’s tail in the morning, but that’s okay. That’s completely okay.

The last thing he remembers within the haze of his memory is Sehun yelling out, “autobots roll out!” and planting a sloppy kiss on Jaejin’s lips.


By the time Jaejin stumbles out with a surprisingly sober Kibum supporting him, and a not so surprisingly drunk Sehun clinging onto his waist, it’s almost two in the morning, two hours past the time Kibum had promised to take Jaejin home. Jaejin is drunk, really drunk, mumbling lyrics to some anime opening he doesn’t know, but now there’s this weird blonde kid literally attached to Jaejin and he doesn’t even know where he came from or who he is. Jaejin looks pretty damn out of it and is strangely tightlipped on the identity of the blonde boy (he did say something about his name being Sehun and that his best friend, Jongin, also ditched him).

Sehun’s friend, Jongin, has yet to be found and that means he has to drag this Sehun kid back home with him and Jaejin. The only other way to make this night worse is if Jaejin vomits on his shirt and the man looks like he can vomit at any moment now. He should’ve known leaving Jaejin at the bar by himself was a bad idea.

“Kibum,” Jaejin hiccups, “you’re suuuuuuuuch a bad friend.”

“Yeah, Kibum, such a bad friend,” Sehun repeats in a slurred voice.

Save him now.
Tags: f: exo, f: ft island, fanfic, p:sejin
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