Hot Girl Summer (A Lookism One-Shot Book)

Gun x Zack

『Cigarette To Cigarette』

TW: Explicit Content, mention of smoking, gay sex, burning, sadism, pictures taken during sex

Pairing: Gun/Zack

Kinks: Anal, burning, slight bondage, piercings, rough sex, filming

Requested By:Kamezuke

Word Count: 3574 ♡

Note: Does Zack not seem the type to have a tongue piercing? Or piercings in general? Also, why do no fucking characters have any piercings if they practically all have tats?
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Zack laughed as the energy in the bar warmed. He was surrounded by reunited friends from middle school. He hadn't seen these guys in a while, happy to see them again. He had only had a couple sips of beer at this point, but his body was warm. He dragged a hand through his hair, looking at the friends around the table.

"C'mon, you always drink more than that. Drink up, I told you, I'm paying." One of his friends said. Zack threw back the glass, chugging the rest of the beer. Peer pressure was always easy when it came to him. He didn't have any work to do tomorrow, so if he got too drunk, and ended up hungover, it wouldn't matter.

"Who do you think is going to get the drunkest tonight?"

"Better question— who do you think will get lucky tonight?" Another one of his friends pointed behind him with his thumb at a table full of girls. They were sitting together, all dressed up, clearly not wanting anyone hitting on them tonight. Zack's eyes wandered from the other table, looking around the bar.

It was flooded with a soft orange light, several hanging lights dotted around, dark tables and chairs were scattered through the spacious sitting area, people sitting with their comrades with drinks on the tables, and in a booth, sat someone vaguely familiar.

He shouldn't be surprised, South Korea is a small country. Eventually he'd see him again. He was leaning back against the black vinyl booth seat, arm resting on the back of it. He was dressed in a brown suit, notches in the lapel, his tie was undone, and he was wearing his iconic sunglasses, too dark to see through. He lifted a glass of whatever a man like him would drink to his lips.

"Hey, man." Someone snapped Zack out of his thoughts. "You alright? You've been staring at that guy in the corner for a minute..."

"He looks kinda scary..."

"He looks like a Yakuza..."

Zack didn't want to listen to his friends talk about him. He didn't even wanna talk about him. "I'm gonna step out, and have a smoke." He said, standing up from the table.

"Alright. Don't wander off."

He waved them off, making his way to the door. He was a little dizzy, a little tipsy, but his vision was only blurry around the edges, so he reasoned that he was fine. He pushed open the door, walking to the side of the building, out of view of the big windows. He pulled out an unopened box of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket, staring at it.

He promised he'd stop smoking, and yet he was tearing off the plastic wrap, opening it, and taking out one of the little, white sticks. He put it up to his lips, patting himself for a lighter. He'd left it at home.

The door swung open, and he took the cigarette from his mouth. His gaze casted to the pavement, only noticing shined, dark brown shoes out of the corner of his eye.

"You were staring." A low voice said. Zack looked up, heart stopping when he saw him.

Street light reflected off of his eyewear. Zack straightened up. "Sorry, you just looked a little familiar."