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kian is good at what he does, good at pretending to be someone he’s not but, every now and then, the cracks start to show. especially when he’s had a bit to drink, his face flushed, and vision blurry. that’s when he truly has to be careful because, if not, pieces of the real kian show through. pieces he wants no one to see. it’s in times like these that he wishes he lived alone, but he doesn’t. he has a roommate; one that, admittedly, may be his favorite plaything. which is somewhat disastrous because while, in normal circumstances, he bathes in the admiration and the attention that seojun gives him, in others, he finds himself ready to snap. sometimes he needs to be alone, to get his head together, and this is one of those times. he can’t be pretend kian right now, he just can’t. he doesn’t have it in him. but he also doesn’t want seojun to see. “can you just—” he grits his teeth, fitting his hands between their bodies to shove the other boy away, “back off?!”
his eyes narrow, brows knitting together. “i’m fine.” he states, emphasizing the period of his sentence for finality. he doesn’t want to argue, he just wants to go to bed. “you don’t need to babysit me, you’re not my mother.” he throws out, the words bitter on his tongue and slightly slurred. he stumbles over his own feet, but catches himself on the armrest of their worn down couch. “i can get drunk if i want to, when i want to.” he adds, but he’s really just arguing with the air at this point. seojun is too nice for this type of confrontation. especially when it comes to kian. he shrugs off his jacket and kicks off his shoes, tripping over the laces. he curses under his breath, but doesn’t let it stop him on the way to his room. “goodnight!” he calls over his shoulder, raising his hand to wave him off.