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Summary
Minho scoffs. “Why are you being so gross tonight?”
Hyunjin slides his card across the bar, hums in thought. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, though Minho’s question had been rhetorical. He just likes to hear himself gab. “Maybe it’s the fact that three nights ago in Chicago Han Jisung held your hand during Alien and you would’ve never known that tonight we’d catch him alone, clearly on the pull, in some back-alley hipster-shit bar.” He plucks the toothpick from his drink, pops an olive into his mouth, and states through his munching, “Basically, I’m on fire.”
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Minho and Hyunjin are 3RACHA groupies.