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His name was Thanos.
He was a rapper, Nam-gyu never listened much to it at the past, if you’d look into his phone there would be barely 2 songs of the kind. It changed at his first days working at the Pentagon, a sweaty place in which people faked and fucked all the time no matter where they are, many contracts were sealed every week and the longest was with a known rapper, purple stupid messy hair and cheeky remarks, Thanos the Legend.
His blattered voice rings in the bartender’s mind during the day, the flirty and sassy sound of it everytime he talks to another human being, the husky tone he uses when asking for the free cigarettes the club offered to all it’s guests. Nam-gyu memorized each special detail about the sound of Thanos’ voice, it’s pretty easy when you’re the one he turns to when the girls and boys leave.
His personality also stuck in Nams’ mind. Both boys are different in all the aspects you can think of, the bartender is usually silent at work and dodges conversations as if dogding bullets, each step is unconsciously measured to avoid attention to his direction, Namgyu is a cautious person, that’s what makes Thanos interesting. The rapper is reckless, loud, acts like attention is an indispensable requirement to keep him alive, maybe that’s how all celebrities view the world.
Namgyu is shy, Thanos is a daredevil.
Thanos smokes a lot, Namgyu thinks that if you look long enough you’ll catch a cigarrete between his fingers, his lips or tucked behind his ear like an old man, and if he doesn’t see it, he knows Thanos will walk by and require another one like a king demanding another wine glass. The bartender rarely prepares a drink to the purple haired man, one day he heard the boy complain to a friend, Gyeong-su or whatever, about how much the alcohol messes with his voice. Namgyu didn’t comment on how smoking did the same, Gyeong-su did it for him and was received with a middle finger painted with blue nail polish.
Namgyu doesn’t talk with Thanos, he observes the boy and memorizes his manners, Thanos also doesn’t talk to him, even though the bartender sometimes notices the celebrity sneaking glances at him like some high school crush. They never exchanged a single sentence, so Namgyu almost fails in hiding his surprise with the voice of Thanos in the chair before him.
“Hey Namsu” The man called, watching as the other glanced at him from the side, a wine glass smudged with red lipstick and cracked at the bottom occupying his hands. “It’s Namgyu” The correction came like an habit, not the first time.
“I think you’re cool, too cool for this place” the hoarse voice echoes, thin lips coming into contact with the cigarrete again, the smoke being inhaled and slowly being released in circles to the air “We don’t hang a lot, but I catch you staring sometimes and you’re pretty funny when dealing with annoying clients”.
“Thanks, I think you’re cool too” the voice came barely a whisper, not out of shyness but out focus, washing the dishes was something his boss took seriously and Nam-gyu would be dead if a visitor catched a hair strand in their drinks... Again.
“I think I really want to kiss ya” The statement makes the long haired boy freeze, mind slowing down to register the meaning behind the statement, there must be a double meaning, it can’t be what Namgyu’s thinking. Namgyu’s world was silence as he tried to look for a ration explanation as to why the rapper was telling him this, but he doesn’t catch the double meaning, he isn’t drunk to think so slowly and he isn’t death to hear it wrong.
Thanos, AKA Legend Thanos, wants to kiss Namgyu, AKA bartender poor Namgyu.
What the fuck?!
“But I don’t wanna scare ya” The boy continues, voice abnormally hesitant. The bartender looks at the boy and back to the dishes, to the dishes and back to the boy, trying hard to think rationally and keep his job, trying to find a reason to refuse, barely noticing that he just nodded “Oh, no, that’s... cool”.
His thoughts only return to the present when the bathroom door closes behind the two of them and Thanos hand makes it’s way to the side of the young boy’s waist.
He met Su-bong in the bathroom.
They’re up against the wall, bodies pressed together like they’re afraid of the other running away. Thanos hands roaming over his body are all Namgyu’s senses can catch, the clinking of the metal cross necklace moving around and hitting the other chains around Choi’s neck, the moans of the rapper’s mouth glued to his collarbones. It was crazy, but it was all Namgyu ever dreamed about, analyzing Su-bong closely.
When his waist band is grabbed by smooth hands and his eyes lock with the other male, already on planting on his knees, Namgyu doesn’t say no.