Book 2 of ~ Kaleidoscope Hearts: The Seungmin Collection
Seungmin's got 99 problems and they're all named Yang Jeongin. The campus bad boy's gone and stolen his heart, and now they're shacking up together. Cue the chaos, the fluff, and enough sexual...
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The basement of the frat house pulsed with a chaotic energy, the air thick with a haze of smoke and the pungent scent of spilled beer. Multicolored lights cut through the dimness, casting strange shadows on the faces of the partygoers. The bass from the music upstairs reverberated through the floorboards, a steady thrum that Jeongin could feel in his bones.
Slouched in a worn leather armchair tucked away in a corner, Jeongin surveyed the room with hooded eyes. His fingers absently traced the rim of the red solo cup in his hand, filled with a concoction of vodka and strawberry soda that was more alcohol than mixer. The ice had long since melted, diluting the drink, but Jeongin didn't care. He wasn't here to enjoy himself.
A half-smoked blunt dangled from his other hand, the ember glowing faintly in the low light. Jeongin brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply. The smoke curled in his lungs, a familiar burn that did little to ease the restlessness he felt.
His eyes swept over the crowd - writhing bodies on the makeshift dance floor, couples making out in dark corners, a group playing an intense game of beer pong. It all seemed so... pointless. Jeongin couldn't remember why he'd even bothered to come.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Fishing it out, Jeongin's expression softened imperceptibly at the sight of Seungmin's name on the screen. He opened the message:
Seungmin: 'Miss you.'
A small smirk played on Jeongin's lips as he typed back:
Jeongin: 'Miss you too, princess.'
He stared at the screen for a moment longer, thumb hovering over the keys. There was more he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask. How was the party? Was he having fun? Did he wish Jeongin was there instead?
But vulnerability had never been Jeongin's strong suit. With a frustrated grunt, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and took a long swig from his cup. The alcohol burned a path down his throat, a welcome distraction from the softer emotions threatening to surface.
The basement door burst open with a bang, startling Jeongin out of his brooding. A group of rowdy partygoers stumbled down the stairs, their laughter cutting through the music. Chan and Minho were at the front, arms slung around each other's shoulders for support.
Minho's eyes, glassy from alcohol, landed on Jeongin. A wide grin spread across his face as he detangled himself from Chan and made his way over, movements slightly unsteady.
"Well, well, well," Minho drawled, flopping down on the arm of Jeongin's chair with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. "If it isn't our resident bad boy. Why're you hiding out down here, Innie?"
Before Jeongin could answer, Minho snatched his cup, taking a large gulp. His face immediately scrunched up in disgust. "Jesus Christ, what is this? Paint thinner?"
Jeongin snatched his cup back, scowling. "It's vodka, you lightweight. And I'm not hiding."
Chan perched on the coffee table in front of them, raising an eyebrow. His blonde hair caught the light as he tilted his head, studying Jeongin with a knowing look that made the younger man squirm. "Then why are you down here instead of upstairs where the real party is?"
