After Hours

by kisskissbanggang

Summary:

"This guy at table six was ruining your night. Then again, it wasn’t like it was through any outright rude methods, but it was already 20 minutes after Lovely Cup closed for the night. This shouldn’t have been a big deal, but you almost considered this an infringement of politeness, considering that your cafe was open the latest in the neighborhood. That yuppie jerk had sulked in maybe an hour earlier and you’d humored him through two painfully slow mugs of coffee. You considered just asking him to leave, but some annoyingly careful, superstitious part of you insisted that if you did that, it’d somehow come back to bite you."

The Reader is swept up into a whirlwind of a night when she takes a chance on a lonely patron in her cafe.

This guy at table six was ruining your night. Then again, it wasn’t like it was through any outright rude methods, but it was already 20 minutes after Lovely Cup closed for the night. This shouldn’t have been a big deal, but you almost considered this an infringement of politeness, considering that your cafe was open the latest in the neighborhood. That yuppie jerk had sulked in maybe an hour earlier and you’d humored him through two painfully slow mugs of coffee. You considered just asking him to leave, but some annoyingly careful, superstitious part of you insisted that if you did that, it’d somehow come back to bite you. 

Instead, you hovered, observing, cleaning the same mug behind the counter for the third time. You were tired, to say the least. You wanted to go home to your small apartment, shower in your small washroom, rest your feet on your small couch, and get ready to actually enjoy sleeping in the next morning in your cozy bed and enjoying a day off for once. It was already resolved that you would turn your phone off from the moment you were going to try and sleep, and not turn it on again until noon, ready to blissfully ignore any phone calls trying to butter you up for overtime. It was time to go home, and this meant that this jerk needed to leave.

The guy at table six was young but certainly not a baby. His suit was too good to be rented or borrowed, but it was definitely rumpled. The frown etched on his face looked earned. You knew that look. He’d had a rough night. You couldn’t just kick him out, right? You surreptitiously poured half the carafe down the sink as you set up the cleaning rags to soak. 

You couldn’t just unceremoniously kick him out, you decided once and for all, but you could definitely encourage him to leave. 

It wasn’t long before table six finished the last of his coffee and set the mug down. And, there it was – he looked right at you. You couldn’t just duck down behind the counter; it was time to deal with this. Carafe in hand, you briskly walked over and stood up straight and authoritative as you poured him the rest of the coffee, all half a mug. Table six looked confoundedly at the mug and then at you, one carefully manicured eyebrow cocked. “Seriously?”

“Sorry,” you apologized with an impatient shrug, “that’s all I have and it’s after closing.”

“No, no, you’re right,” the stranger sighed with a shake of his head. “Just had a rough night.”

“I gathered as much,” you nodded sympathetically, “and normally I’d let you take as long as you need, but we’re technically closed. Sorry about your rough night.”

“Oh, come on!” the stranger reneged, scoffing now with a somber grin. “Aren’t waitresses supposed to be more accommodating? They’re always doing that in movies and on TV. Whatever happened to ‘penny for your thoughts’ or something?”

“You’re thinking of bartenders,” you deadpanned with a huff. “And for your thoughts? It’ll cost you way more than a penny.”

You spun on your heel, your modest non-slip heels squeaking on the linoleum and ready to march into the kitchen when you heard the distinct sound of money being pulled out of a wallet. A sharp pause struck down like lightning between the two of you, you and the asshole at table six. When you decided to turn and take a look, there he was, defiantly holding aloft a single bill. 

That one single bill was more than double your hourly wage. 

Who the hell was this guy?

Maybe it was that intrigue that made you walk back to the table. You hesitated for a moment before setting the carafe down and snatching the bill. Table six had the most accomplished grin as he watched you impatiently take a seat across from him and meticulously fold the bill up to stuff into your bra through the unbuttoned portion of your blouse. Now he was staring. 

You let out a beleaguered sigh. “What?”

Table six’s eyes widened, like he’d just been caught. “Er, nothing,” he chuckled futilely as he gestured vaguely to your chest, “just wondering why–”

“This is mine,” you cut him short, “right? It’s just for me, and it’s safe in here. You still owe me for the coffee. Now go on, tell me what’s eating you.”

Now table six blinked at you, like he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Honestly, he looked leagues more approachable when he wasn’t brooding. Like this, he was almost every boy next door, just grown up and apparently doing very well for himself. His soft features warmed up a bit, his icy facade melting a little into something far more palatable, the previously cold gaze in his dark brown eyes and his sternly set chin now much more friendly. He bit at his lip in thought before he started. “Okay, so I work at–”

“Nope, wait, no, hold on,” you shushed him, “I am going to listen but I’m not here for all your personal details.”

“Oh, come on!” he reeled. “Even where I work?! What about names or–”

“And certainly not names,” you emphasized. 

“Then what about my–”  

“Use a fake; I don’t care,” you shrugged and indignantly folded your arms, “I just don’t want to recognize you when I inevitably keep hearing about you. That’s how these things always go, don’t they? You get too close to a guy for ten minutes and suddenly you find out everyone you talk to knows who he is.”

Table six scoffed. “Bit uncouth, don’t you think?” 

“Hey,” you flicked a pointed finger in his direction, “you didn’t strike up a conversation or try to get to know me. You paid me to listen and I’m listening. Now go on.”

And he didn’t storm off. He really had no other option, no one else to talk to. Table six sighed and sank into his seat. “Alright. There was this girl I used to work with, and we’ll call her… ‘Daisy’, I guess.”

You couldn’t hold back a smirk. “Like the flower?” 

Table six shrugged. “Like the Gatsby character.”

“Oh, of course.” Your companion didn’t seem to enjoy your nonplussed eye roll, but he pressed on. 

“Whatever,” he scoffed, almost emboldened to not let you wear him down. “So I’ve been interested in ‘Daisy’ as long as I’ve known her, but we split ways after our internship, and I see her again recently, but I don’t want to come on too strong. So I set something up super low-key, tell her I’ll meet her at this work thing, and I bring a friend of mine.”

“Friend?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We’ll call her… ‘Zelda’.”

“Like Zelda Fitzgerald?”

And now you’d caught him off guard again. “Er… Like the video game.”

“Right. And ‘Zelda’ knew what was going on?”

“What do you mean? I asked her if she wanted to go with me to this work thing and I knew some people who’d be there. So, yes, she knew.”

“Fine,” you relented, “I admit we’re being too vague. What was the work thing?”

Table six ticked an eyebrow up at you. “A gallery opening at the art museum.”

“White tie or black tie?”

His quirked brow furrowed into curious concern. “Black tie optional. Why?”

You reached forward across the vinyl tabletop, making table six flinch as you put a hand on his shoulder. He watched, puppy dog eyes engrossed as you gently pushed him back against the seat to get a better look at him. His soft brown hair was worn casually pushed back, or so you assumed now that it was falling a bit more over his temple. He was clean shaven, possibly even touching up before he went out for the night. If you paused to observe, his cologne was tastefully noticeable and musky but not overbearing. You moved on to his suit. It was a handsome shade of navy, paired with a crisp, cornflower-hued shirt. His tie was narrow cut with muted pinstripes of dark gray and blue, with the daintiest powder-blue camellias adorning the print. His tie clip wasn’t extravagant, nor were his cufflinks when you grabbed at his sleeves, all reserved and darker-toned pewter as opposed to shined silver or gold. He wore no jewelry or accessories aside from a plain but dignified wristwatch, analog and ticking. Peering under the table, he had on a sensible pair of oxfords. Table six yelped as you brazenly kicked his foot closer to you so you could peek under the ankle of his trousers and caught sight of his understated dress socks. 

He looked like he was awaiting dire results from the doctor when you came back up to face him. “Well?”

“What did she wear?”

Table six groaned, quickly growing impatient. “What does that have to do-?! Ugh, I don’t know, a nice blouse and a skirt? She had on a jacket so I couldn’t tell if she had sleeves or not. Some heels?”

“And what did she say when you picked her up? I’m assuming you picked her up.”

Table six gave a more emphatic sigh as he tilted his head back against the top of the booth seat. “Reasonable assumption. She was excited. She said I looked amazing. I told her she did, too.”

You folded your arms before holding your chin thoughtfully, giving a methodical, pensive nod like you were actually some professional. “Amazing specifically? Have you ever told ‘Zelda’ that you’re attracted to her, no matter how innocuously, physically or otherwise?”

Table six’s face was suddenly crestfallen, but not necessarily guilty. It took him a moment to realize he’d sat up to attention at your question. “Well,” he slouched back in his seat, “why wouldn’t I tell a friend she’s pretty or funny or that anyone would be lucky to date her? Because I’m not going to; I have no time for relationships. So I told her up front that guys should be dying to be with her. That’s completely innocent.”

“I don’t know if you’re as innocent as you claim, honestly. Oblivious, maybe, but not innocent.”

“You could tell that from my suit?!” Table six was shocked. Offended, even. 

“The suit doesn’t help,” you shook your head. “From what I’ve gathered, ‘Zelda’ was under the impression that you were taking her out to a fancy gallery opening and showed up dressed like a – excuse me – actual Prince Charming, someone straight off of television or a movie, and have already given her the idea that you’re mutually attracted to each other–”

“Each other?! We’re literally just friends!”

It was your turn to sigh now, with a languid roll of the eyes to top it off. “You wanted me to listen, and I listened. I even gave you input. It’s well after closing, and I sure would love to go use this cash you gave me to get a cab because I definitely missed my bus by now.”

Table six let you get up and wordlessly watched as you hand-washed his mug and set it to dry. He was still there when you stormed into the back room and fetched your bag from your locker, and he was still there when you emerged back into the cafe proper. You made it two steps away from the door before you heard a reluctant sigh. “Do you want a ride?”

You stopped in your tracks before you half-turned to glance back at him. “You’re kidding,” you mused out loud.

“No,” he shook his head. “I made you stay late and humor me; this is the least I can do.” With this, he got out of the booth, smoothing out his suit jacket and standing tall over you as you fished out the cafe keys from your bag. 

“This is how girls don’t make it home,” you scoffed. 

“Come on,” table six rolled his eyes. “It’s late, there’s strangers out there–”

“There’s strangers in here,” you teased, “I’m not getting in a car with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

Table six shrugged. “Call me Chance, then.”

“Chance?” you snorted. 

“Sure.” He nodded genuinely as he held the door open for you. You could bolt if you wanted. “You don’t want to know me in the daylight and I’m asking you to take a chance on me.”

You actually paused short at this. He was really trying. You took a step out the door, watching him brighten as you took a cautious, deep breath. “Then I guess I’m Penny.”

Table six – Chance, now – softened before he stepped out the door with you, with a bemused grin spread across his face. “Penny?”

“Yeah,” you nodded heartily as you locked up for the night, “I’m one big penny for your thoughts, apparently. Now show me your presumably nice car.”

Chance looked a little bruised at your jab. “What makes you so sure it’s a nice car?” 

“I apparently have a good sense for these things,” you nonchalantly shrugged with a smirk, hoping to soften the blow. You checked the time on your phone before slipping it in your bag along with your keys; it wasn’t even really that late for you, especially now that you didn’t have to worry about a ride. Chance casually slipped his hands in his pockets as he strolled alongside you, just half a stride ahead so he could show you where he was parked.

“What bus stop do you even use?” Chance asked, whipping his head around to look behind you both for a stop on the street. It was admittedly far, but it was a safe part of town for the most part, which was nice. The police station was only a few blocks away, keeping the atmosphere in the neighborhood pretty calm.

“It’s not a far walk,” you insisted, “just a couple blocks or so away. But that reminds me–” you paused after a beat, letting him notice and take a look at you. “The museum is on the other side of town. Why are you all the way out here?”

You could tell Chance immediately bit down on the inside of his cheek before he bashfully resumed walking. “I was pretty heated,” he grumbled as he more firmly shoved his hands in his pockets, “so I took a drive and ended up here.”

“What could you possibly be so heated about?” you asked, but bit your own tongue when Chance shot a glare back at you. “You never told me what happened next,” you awkwardly clarified. 

He sighed, letting his head tip back just a second. “So I see ‘Daisy’ at the work thing, and she has a guy with her–”

“Oh no–”

“I’m not done yet. She has a guy with her, and when I catch up with her, he says he’s her assistant from work.”

“Okay?”

Chance wrinkled his nose up for a second, almost as if to pause and consider something. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

“This was a work thing, right?”

“Not exactly,” he shot back with a wag of his finger. “There were people from both our offices there, but it wasn’t actually a work thing. I don’t know if I clarified that yet.”

“And was her assistant–”

“Hanging all over her like a lost puppy?” Chance interrupted you triumphantly, “Yes!”

“Fine,” you gave in, “that’s weird.”

“Right,” Chance reeled, “so I called him out on it, and the guy nearly went bezerk on me!”

In all this fervor, you hadn’t even noticed the two of you had stopped at a parking spot on the side of a street a block and a half from work. As expected, the car wasn’t exactly exorbitant but it was ludicrously nice. It wasn’t even the latest model, but it was pristinely kept, the sapphire blue coat almost perfectly reflective under the streetlights. Still, you paused with him, you with your arms folded across from him with his hands firmly in his pockets. “You called him out? How exactly did that go?”

“Well,” Chance sighed, “I was making small talk, trying to establish any momentum for the night, and suddenly the assistant yanks me out of the way and says I’m being inappropriate!”

You actually scoffed on his behalf. How were you getting so invested in this? But sure enough, that proud son of a bitch was looking at you expectantly. 

“So?!” you implored him. “What then?”

Chance shrugged, more than a bit deflated. “Maybe it’s stupid, but I got uppity about it. I dunno, I got protective and proud and basically told him if the shoe fits, wear it, but with far less grace. He didn’t care for that one bit.”

You smirked with bemusement. “Protective? What was your endgame? Take her home because you saved her?”

“Oh, come on,” Chance teasingly whined as he beeped the car unlocked, “I don’t have to give you a ride, you know.” He pulled the passenger side door open and held it impatiently, almost as if to make a point. 

“Well, Prince Charming?”

“Fine,” he reluctantly groaned, “I wasn’t even looking to hook up. I was just hoping it would help sweeten my case to spend time with her, maybe get a goodnight kiss out of it.”

“A goodnight kiss? How noble,” you snickered. “Must be a hell of a good kiss to have that be a viable goal.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a terrific kisser,” Chance staunchly assured you. “Now, come on, get in the car. You said it’s late.”

“Then how would you kiss her?” you prodded him, ignoring his insistence. It was almost fun, pushing his buttons for how determined he seemed. You imagined this clandestine kiss was slow-motion in his mind, something hesitant and chaste but insinuating a greater need, straight out of a drama.

“Excuse me?” he scoffed at you, stalling until you stood your ground. “Fine, you miserable person. I was hoping I’d walk her to her door and let her know I was glad I could be there for her.”

“And then?”

“And then?! Why is there an and then?!”

“Because you didn’t actually get to the kiss yet!”

“You’re actually the worst waitress on the planet.”

“You could leave me here, you know.”

“Oh my god, fine–”

“Fine what–?!”

You backed up half a step in stark surprise as Chance closed the distance between you and, with one hand on your waist, his lips pressed soft against yours, gentle yet unyielding – until you shoved him the hell off of you. The two of you stared each other down, breathing hard and eyes wide.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry, why did I do that–” Chance cursed under his breath, aghast with himself and now you were at least reassured that you weren’t off-base for finding the gesture bizarre and unwarranted.

“That’s what I’m wondering,” came a voice off to the side of you both. You turned, gasping a breath too sharp into your throat to find a stranger in a face mask and sunglasses, the hood of his sweater up and gloves on his hands. In the stranger’s right hand grip, a blade glinted in a street light. You coughed up your gasp and grabbed Chance’s sleeve as he finally noticed what was happening. “Now, come on, you two,” the mugger badgered. “Wallets and phones. Car keys, too.”

“Fucking excuse me?” Chance huffed, stepping forward and defensively reaching a hand in front of you. “You are not getting this goddamn car; I just finished paying it off.”

“Chance,” you warily grumbled as you put a hand on his arm, “consider what you’re doing here.”

“Penny,” he snapped back at you, “I swear to god, if you give this guy your purse I’m actually leaving you here.”

“Can’t do that if he gets the keys,” you rebuked. 

“Can we hurry up, please?” Your mugger impatiently jabbed the blade in your direction specifically, making Chance turn to herd you back closer against the car and away from the stranger. As expected, the keys in his hand caught your attacker’s attention and he capitalized on it, lunging forward and grabbing your only way out for the moment. “Alright, we’re making progress,” the man mockingly praised, “now the rest. Wallets and phones. Purse, too, pretty thing.”

“You don’t have to be such a prick about it–” Chance haughtily ranted as he still valiantly maintained distance between you and the mugger, but he was cut off into a hail of curses as the guy took a firm step forward. You watched carefully, your heart in your throat as the man grabbed onto Chance’s necktie and held his gaze before slicing it. Standing your ground was one thing, but this was far too much. 

“I don’t have all night, and you have even less,” the thief warned him.

“Fucking fine, asshole,” you desperately cut in, surprising Chance as you dug your hands into his pockets to find his wallet and thrust it at the man. Your assailant nodded expectantly as you plunged your hand back in Chance’s pockets to find his phone next, and then slung off your purse to hand over.

“Is that it, then?” Chance glowered, his frozen glare directed at you first.

“No, there’s a Difficulty Tax now. Hand over your watch.”

“Come on,” you whined, stepping in between them now. “It’s not luxury, it’s just an analog watch.”

“Noted,” the stranger shrugged, still brandishing the blade as he kicked the passenger side door closed and walked around to the driver’s seat. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Please don’t mess up my settings–!” Chance barked as the thief slammed the door shut and stabbed the ignition. Admittedly, Chance’s car was incredibly nice from the sound of the engine revving. He winced as the mugger stomped the gas and peeled off into the street, just watching the guy make off with his car before he finally looked down, shaking his head. “My damn neck tie of all things? Really?”

It wasn’t hard to assume he was never prepared for this.

But he definitely wasn’t prepared for you shoving him in the shoulder, as evidenced as he stumbled back a couple steps in bewilderment of you.

“Who the fuck said you could kiss me?!”

He flailed in a moment of stunned silence. “You’re still on that?!”

“This isn’t some pickup tutorial,” you berated him, arms folded belligerently across your chest. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’re right! And I apologized!” Chance reeled, now manically pacing a tight circle. “Immediately, might I add! Now who the fuck said you could hand over the keys to my fucking car?!”

“I don’t know if you saw,” you argued, “but you should be glad it was just your dumb car. That guy had a knife, Chance, he had a fucking weapon.”

“And did you think I couldn’t protect you?”

Incredible. You gawked at him, at how goddamn sure of himself he was. “How romantic and brave of you! Like you tried to protect that girl at the museum and you apparently almost had the snot beaten out of you for it?!”

You knew it was too far the second you said it, but now there was no taking it back. 

“I’m sorry,” you tersely apologized.

Now you both were right back to staring each other down on the sidewalk. You officially bruised his pride by the look of it. All that was looking back at you was a prickling ball of contempt and adrenaline.

“If I wasn’t such an idiot,” he sneered, “I could‘ve just given that money to a fucking street-walker to listen to me bitch if I knew you were going to be so much trouble. You’re right, talking to you costs much more than a penny based on liability alone.”

You didn’t mean for the stupidly girlish and offended gasp you sucked in, but that only compounded how immediately devastated and regretful Chance looked when you promptly turned to storm off. The nerve of that motherfucker. It almost grossed you out, how your heartbeat had immediately leapt up in rate when he first grabbed you, hit a high when he kissed you, and hadn’t let up since. Now, your harried pulse carried you hard down the street. You made it almost a full block before you finally heard rushed footsteps catching up behind you.

“Penny!”

You paused a beat, waiting for it. When you didn’t hear the magic words, you just kept marching, letting him keep pace behind you.

“Penny! Where are you going?!” he frustratedly repeated. Still no magic words. You pounded the pavement, stubbornly moving forward through the next block, growing nearer and nearer to the nearby nightlife district.

“Ugh, Penny, come on, I’m sorry–” You finally heard.

“What was that?” you rudely called back.

“I’m sorry,” Chance laid out, sounding broken as you barely turned your head back to regard him. “I was real fucking out of line there. I’ve just… y’know… never been mugged before, let alone had my car stolen.”

When you turned halfway around to actually look at him, you were surprised to find Chance standing behind you, not staring you down with another steely glare, but head down in utter defeat, hands on his hips as he tried to finally catch his breath. As it seemed, he was also fairly riled up. He jumped as he felt your hand on his shoulder, your other unpeeling his hands away from his sides. You got a confused grumble out of him when you wrenched his head up and onto your shoulder before you pulled him into a hug, even gently rubbing his back for good measure. “I’m sorry I was so mean, and I’m sorry your car was stolen,” you soothed, “but at least it was just a car. I’ve never been mugged before either. To be perfectly honest, that was fucking terrifying and I’m impressed you held your ground so well.”

Chance seemed to match your reluctance to soften up, but eventually you felt his arms wrap around you in return, apparently finding the comfort you were trying to provide. “It’s not just a car. I worked my ass off for that car. I’m sorry again that I kissed you, though,” he murmured into your shoulder. “I’ve never done a thing like that before in my life. That was inexcusable, and I was such a dick to you after you were the only rational person in that confrontation, and your stuff got stolen, too. Now, please tell me where you’re going.”

“Here,” you simply said.

“Here?” Chance lifted his head off your shoulder, suddenly catching on as he realized you were both standing outside of a busy nightclub. Now that you both climbed out of your little huddle, the sound of traffic and nightlife patrons caught up with you and surrounded you.

“Your nasty little remark reminded me that our friend didn’t get away with everything,” you explained as you momentarily unbuttoned the top button of your blouse to fetch the bill he’d given you back at the cafe. Chance quickly averted his eyes once he noticed what you were doing, but was then caught off guard as you reached for what was left of his necktie.

His hands scrambled for yours. “Hey-!”

“What,” you cut him off, “are you going to get it repaired? We’re going into a club and I’m already not exactly dressed for the occasion.”

Chance sighed and tugged off what remained of his handsome necktie, dropping it in a nearby garbage can before he flinched once again, now as you reached for his collar. “Would you quit?!”

“Stop fussing,” you scolded as you plucked open the top couple of buttons on his shirt, doing anything you could think of to look a little more presentable. Thankfully, minus your work apron you were just in a white button-up and a comfortable, black pencil skirt, something reasonable enough for a club if no one noticed your plain work pumps with your favorite insoles inside. It was a bit of a blessing in disguise that you chose these instead of your comfier clogs for the day, now that you thought about it. You scanned the street one more time, seeing if any of the less fancy places were open or less crowded. Settling for your chosen option once more, you shook out your hair, grabbed Chance’s sleeve, and fell into line behind a sizable group heading into the front entrance.

For as ridiculous as your forming plan already was, this was also one of the only clubs in the neighborhood that had a cover charge at the door and required exact change, something that normally wouldn’t be a problem if you had your purse with you. Without anything but the one bill Chance had previously given you, blending in with this little entourage was your only hope for the moment. The bouncer plucked bills and counted heads, and you snatched Chance’s hand the moment you made it beyond the entryway. Of course, you didn’t make it far before you heard it.

“Hey! I didn’t grab your charge!” a stern voice roared over the loud music of the club.

“Oh, sorry,” you called back behind you to stall, “it’s right here just let me grab it!”

Instead, you just pulled Chance faster behind you and into the swarm on the dance floor, ducking out of sight of the bouncer on your tail as you tried to blend in. You pushed deeper and deeper into the center of the crowd, confident you lost the rightfully upset bouncer, but now very aware you needed to evade any suspicion as people turned to notice you. Chance was currently utilizing whatever height advantage he had to try and peer through the lights cutting through the suffocating fog machine so he could make sure you’d gotten away, and he jumped as you pulled him close.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he leaned down to yell in your ear.

“Not looking suspicious, you idiot!” you called back, and it was like he had to think about that. So he danced. It was definitely more frantic than graceful or even natural given the situation, and honestly a bit goofy, but you found yourself dreadfully endeared by it. Truthfully, it’d been a long time since you’d been out anywhere, let alone a club. You weren’t sure if Chance could say the same, but it still took him a moment to temporarily let go and actually enjoy this little bit of necessitated debauchery, probably having never been anything but an upstanding citizen all his life. It wasn’t lost on you that he was cute like this – handsome, even – as he finally let the music carry him, allowing himself to bob and sway with the beat. That alone made it easier to get closer on the already cramped dance floor, but before you knew it you were pressed against him. Even this felt good, however, despite the ridiculousness of the night so far, and you even turned, letting your back press into his chest. To your surprise, he went right along with this as well, his hand cautiously pressing into your waist–

–And a hand grappled onto your shoulder, descending from up above and belonging to a very pissed bouncer. 

You panicked, grabbing Chance’s hand and evading trouble once more, ducking down and pushing through the crowd with him right behind. Hoping to escape to a calmer part of the club, you made the decision to sprint upstairs behind a party heading down from there. The way Chance hurriedly clapped a hand onto your shoulder, you assumed he’d almost lost you, but you soon found yourselves on the much cooler and serene second floor, a loft overlooking the dance floor below but with a window between to help dampen the pounding noise.

You steeled yourself, mustering an air of confidence as you sauntered up to the bar. 

“What are we even doing up here?” Chance asked in your ear, his hand now respectfully high up on your lower back to keep you close.

“We’re waiting for a bartender so we can offer to pay extra for a drink if we can use the phone,” You answered matter-of-factly before sternly facing the bar again, trying to keep your mind in the game. However, making eye contact with your compatriot for the night was intensely awkward after getting so close just a moment before. Like this, you could delude yourself into feeling like this wasn’t the two of you having a very weird and rough night. The confusing thing was how Chance seemed to have an equally hard time looking back at you, too, especially considering these were just your work clothes and you were just the worst waitress on the planet according to him. 

“I’ll admit I’m impressed,” Chance stiffly praised, leaning forward so now neither of you had to look at each other. “You‘ve been really good at thinking on your feet.”

You bashfully smirked. “Not bad, huh?”

The hand on your back seemed to shift from cordial to more relaxed, Chance’s fingers curling into you a little more and dipping a centimeter lower now that he was less on edge. “For the worst waitress on the planet? Not bad at all,” he agreed, lingering a little closer to your ear now, “and, actually, If I’m being honest– oh holy shit–”

The hand on your back turned into a frantic clutch, and you turned just in time to catch Chance pale at the sight of whatever it was he saw. That was all you had time for, really, as he herded you away from the bar and rushed you over to a small booth in the corner, dragging you down until you landed on your ass on the edge of the booth seat across from him.

“What is the big deal?! Did you see the bouncer again?!” you asked, hushed again and terrified as Chance grabbed your hands to yank you closer, as if you were just two lovers making small talk.

“What a fucking nightmare. My goddamn boss is here,” Chance croaked.

“And?!” you challenged him, sitting up and looking around at who this terrifying boss could be.

“If my boss knows what I got into tonight,” he hissed as he tugged you back down, “I won’t hear the end of it.

“What you got into? You got into a small confrontation and walked away,” you rolled your eyes. “Who even is this guy? I at least want to know who we’re hiding from.”

Chance sighed hard, hazarding a glance out across the floor. “Fine. Ripped, young, bottle blonde… short.”

You grinned triumphantly, sitting up and scanning the room. Finally, across the loft, you spied him. He was surprisingly young, with dark roots under his blonde hair, and fairly muscular in his fancy shirt as he got rather friendly with some bar patron. “Him?” you wondered aloud. “What’s the big deal if he knows what you’re up to? Again, you didn’t do anything wrong back at the museum.”

“Not exactly,” Chance grumbled.

“Excuse me?” You turned back to find Chance with his head on the table. He resisted at first when you reached across to gingerly lift his temple off the hard surface. “What the hell did you get up to? You confronted the assistant and then what?”

“Alright,” Chance heaved out a breath, still not looking at you as he sat up, away from the tabletop. “I confronted the assistant. I was admittedly pretty rough about it. He squared up, almost took a swing at me, and I was perfectly willing to get into it–”

“You’re kidding, right?” you fretted.

“I wish,” he groaned. “So ‘Daisy’ grabs him and drags him out–”

“Good for her,” you decided.

“Honestly, I agree,” he nodded. “She drags him out, people are staring, so after a consolation drink and I try to gather myself, I head out to the parking garage, maybe see if I can find ‘Zelda’ again or at least text her.”

“And?”

“And,” he paused, almost like he was pulling together his resolve. “So I get out to the parking garage, and off in the distance, I spot ‘Daisy’. Neither she, nor her assistant have left yet.”

“Okay?” You leaned forward, enraptured by the plot getting more complicated by the second. This all happened just earlier that night? No wonder he seemed exhausted at the cafe.

“They’re together, and they get into her car, and of course now they’re making out. I was absolutely correct; there was something decidedly inappropriate going on if he’s actually her assistant.”

“Holy shit,” you marvelled.

“Oh yeah,” he thoroughly agreed. “Not just making out, but they’re actually set to get it on in the fucking parking garage. And I’m still pretty mad and maybe my pride’s a little hurt… so I called security at the museum.”

“Chance!” you scolded, exclaiming louder than you ever intended and drawing some glances.

“I know!” he placated as he patted your flailed hands back down. “I know,” he repeated, “and I took way too much pleasure in watching them get asked to leave. Of course I was still pissy when they were gone, though.”

“Of course,” you sarcastically agreed. “Then what? You went for a drive and stumbled across the cafe?”

“Not exactly,” he admitted. “I need to give you some context first. So this guy at my work doesn’t even get a fake name, he’s just a dick even though I know I shouldn’t hate him. He’s just the brother of one of my good friends.”

“And?” You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for whatever insane thing was coming next.

“So if you’re following along, both my friend’s brother and ‘Zelda’ are mutual acquaintances of mine, friends of friends. And I went to a cocktail party at my friend’s apartment a month or two ago, where they were all over each other in the kitchen as if nobody knows.”

“Oh, shit–”

“I’m not done yet. She assured me since then that she’s single. She insists she’s not looking for anything serious. So I ask her out tonight. And since I work with this dick, he’s there, too–”

“Where the hell is this going?” you interrupted, wondering where exactly you got this engrossed in the story. Didn’t he say they were just friends? Why would it matter that they’re single?

“I’m not done yet!” Chance laughed. “Shut up and I’ll tell you. I stew in the parking garage for a bit, I’m getting some fresh air, I’ve already texted ‘Zelda’ forever ago wondering where she is, and I’ve already written her off as a ghost.”

“Understandable,” you nodded.

“Exactly,” he enthusiastically pointed at you. “And I’m getting ready to call it quits and leave, and there she is!”

“Fuck,” you gasped. Were you normally this easy? Chance was so animated by now that his casually styled hair fell forward back over his forehead and he quickly carded his fingers back to somewhat comb it back into place. 

“Right?! So I’m thinking here we go, it was some weird misunderstanding but we’ll figure it out and go about our night–”

“With a kiss goodnight at her door,” you teased, regaining a grip on yourself. 

“Or so I would hope,” he animatedly babbled on. How weird. wasn’t it supposed to be completely innocent? “Because she’s looking rough, like I’m catching her fresh off a one-night stand.”

“What the fuck. And?”

“And it turns out I pretty much did just that, clearly, because she’s covered in hickies and looking pretty upset about something.”

“Wait,” you interrupted, “upset? What’s she upset about? Did you find out?”

“No clue,” he shook his head, “but I didn’t get a chance to find out, because here comes that tool from work, coming to her rescue–”

“Rescue?” you interrupted again, more adamantly this time. “What was he rescuing her from?”

“I mean,” Chance meekly shrugged, “I guess I was a little rude to her. I wish I wasn’t now, of course. She did ditch me, and my feelings were hurt, but that wasn’t any excuse.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “How exactly were you rude to her?”

“I guess…” Chance paused, seeing how serious you’d become. “I insinuated that I should‘ve expected all that to happen, her ditching me and hooking up with the dick from work when she told me she was single.”

“And how did that supposed dick from work rescue her?”

“Why are you on their side?” Chance asked you, suddenly much more defensive. “He said I was out of line and needed to apologize.”

“And did you?”

Chance let that question hang in the air far too long for your liking, his perfectly kind eyes boring into you like he was reconciling something in himself by looking at you first. This was so weird. Chance talked about small, romantic things, like parting goodnight kisses or college crushes. He pined for ‘Daisy’ for years and took a chance, but he acted just like the boys club yuppies that blundered through the cafe during rush hour, making demands and trying not to mess up their perfect hair, their perfect suits, or drip coffee in their perfect cars. He talked about romance with the same enthusiasm that he talked about girls like they were hookups. ‘Zelda’ was just a friend but he was clearly hurt and jealous over her actions, even though he had no time for relationships. Who was this guy?

“Junior!” A voice cut across the silence between you both. You turned, startled, only to see Chance’s boss standing beside your table. “Fancy seeing you here, dude, glad to see you’re still a night owl even when I’m not around.”

“Can’t get off my game; who knows when you’ll be back in town,” Chance laughed ingratiatingly, but you could‘ve sworn his voice dropped half an octave. “Stuck with the blonde, I see.”

“Decided to wait till I got back,” the young mogul shrugged as he shoved his fingers back through his hair, the same move you watched Chance do just a few minutes prior. “I’ll call my stylist tomorrow. Introduce me to your friend, Junior.”

Chance seemed ready to casually excuse you both when the incredibly forward blonde helped himself to your side of the booth. Now he just looked mortified. “Er, Penny,” he gritted through a cordial smile, “this is Chan.”

“I swear, the stories aren’t true,” Chan ribbed. He flippantly slid closer with an arm along the top of the seat, so it wasn’t around you but it was close. Chance surreptitiously motioned a hand in your direction and you leapt on the idea, sliding over and closer to him instead. Chan nonchalantly gestured with his drink towards Chance. “I got a text from Jeongin. Minho’s real pissed at you, Junior. No one has the details and Minho hasn’t gotten back to me, but I understand some shit went down.”

“That motherfucker–” Chance grumbled distractedly before he got back on track. “I don’t know what you were told but–”

“But you can’t be causing trouble like that around town, my guy, even if you think I’m not here.” Chan winked before taking a sip from his glass. 

“What are you even doing here?” Chance asked. “I thought you weren’t back from Berlin for two weeks.”

“Trip was cut early,” Chan replied into his drink. “So I stopped by the gallery thing since I knew there were still a couple tickets reserved for me, but it turns out I wasn’t feeling it, so I bailed.”

“Totally get it,” Chance nodded enthusiastically. “Actually, Chan, I was wondering if you could help us out. Could I borrow your phone?”

Chan cocked his head curiously, even sharing some of Chance’s puppy-like demeanor. “My phone? Where’s yours?”

“Well,” Chance laughed awkwardly, “we were sort of mugged. So if I could–”

“Mugged?! Dude, you don’t just need a phone, you need to file a police report,” Chan reeled. “What all did that asshole get away with?”

“Oh, you know,” Chance stalled, “wallet, phone, Penny’s purse… The car.”

“Not the Lexus,” Chan gasped. 

“The Lexus,” Chance shamefully nodded. 

Chan hammered his drink onto the table like a gavel. “Yeah, fuck the phone. We’re going to the police station right now.”

“What?” Chance balked. Chan politely offered you a hand out of the booth. You took it, oddly pulled in by his boisterous chivalry and wondering if this was typical. 

“Right now,” Chan nodded adamantly. “The Rover’s parked out back, I just picked it up from storage this morning.”

Now Chan offered you his arm to take. That was too funny to pass up. “You have time for this? You didn’t strike out, did you?” You asked, deciding there was no harm in being friendly with this temporary acquaintance. For all the yuppie jerks that walked into your cafe, you never had the chance to talk to or interact with one so casually before Chance, and definitely not one like Chan, whose earrings matched his cufflinks.

“I never strike out,” Chan cockily retorted with a Cheshire grin. “Let’s say the game got called off for rain. I wasn’t feeling it.”

“And who’s Junior?” You implored, taking a glance back at Chance who was glowering behind you. “Named after his dad?”

“Nah,” Chan glanced back, too. “He’s my junior. Grabbed that little baby bird, got him under my wing, taught him everything I know.” At this, Chan looked proud, utterly beaming with joy over his protege. Meanwhile, Chance had his hands firmly shoved in his pockets, making stark eye contact with the ground as he followed behind.

The Rover was definitely gorgeous, some outlandishly brutish import for the area, but it was almost too clean. It even smelled like a brand new car when Chan beeped the gigantic beast of burden open, and Chance shoved forward so he could politely hold you steady while you hopped into the backseat. Funny enough, you weren’t expecting him to come join you, but you were nonetheless glad he did. But now, even though there was now a boundary between you and Chan, it was even easier to get a rise out of Chance while he was insisting on being so weird. You caught yourself wondering what exactly Chance learned if Chan taught him everything he knows.

“So, Chan,” you curiously began, sitting up more in your seat. Chance observed warily, his raised eyebrow showing in passing streetlights. “Are art galleries just not your thing?”

“Oh,” he smirked, “I can spend all day at the MoMA. I even have a membership and make a donation every year. Tonight just wasn’t my night. Right place, wrong crowd, you know?”

“Wrong crowd?” You parroted.

“Sure,” he nodded, hand tight on the steering wheel. Mysteriously, the sparkle in his eye dulled a little when you leaned forward to see him better. “Namely, I saw an ex of mine and like… you know how you’re happy that someone’s happy, but you wonder if they would be just as happy with you? Or–”

“Or if they would never have been as happy with you?” 

Chan tepidly nodded again, maybe mentally with that ex he was talking about. By now, your chin was almost perched over his shoulder. “And then it makes you wonder why you couldn’t make them that happy?” you wondered out loud.

“Yeah, that,” Chan soberly admitted. “So I’m glad she’s happy, even though I’d probably be way more glad if she was happy with someone else–”

“Awh, Chan!” you laughed, patting his shoulder over the seat. Chance actually jumped from where he sat against the door. “You’re not telling me that this is actually jealousy?”

“No!” Chan chuckled defensively. “I just, you know… people change. So maybe he’s actually a decent guy, and he makes her that happy–”

“Happier than you made her,” you suggested.

“Happier than I made her,” he nodded, the frat boy fuckboy mask peeling back even more.

You sympathetically rubbed Chan’s shoulder when you caught Chance’s eye. Speaking of jealousy, that same steely look had returned, like he was removing any attachment to you from the situation. It made you almost want to say something, when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You clapped a hand back on Chan’s shoulder.

“Chan!”

“What?!” He whipped his head around, bouncing out of the lane for just a moment.

“Stop the car,” you demanded. When Chance frantically turned to see what you were looking at, he recognized it immediately. Your friend from earlier was currently stalking into a convenience store with his hands shoved in his hoodie pocket, likely on the same knife he’d brandished at you both earlier that night.

“I am not stopping the car,” Chan shook his head incredulously.

“Dude, seriously?” Chance barked. “Can we not make this more difficult?”

“I’m not stopping the car!” Chan let out an affronted laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, Junior? Once again, I have to give you a push or you’ll just pussy out of it. Do I need to remind you of the Luxembourg Merger?” 

Curiously, Chance was genuinely offended by this one, leaning back with an astounded scoff. 

“Chan,” you urgently groaned, “I promise, it’ll get sorted out okay? I’m on it.”

Chan leaned back over now, locking eyes on Chance in the backseat. “I like her,” he grinned. He sat back in his seat to tip his head towards you. “I like you,” he repeated. “You promise?”

“I swear,” you insisted. “You just gotta pull over.”

Chan sighed with a shrug. “Fair enough.”

“Thank you,” you gushed as Chan flicked the turn signal and pulled up to the curb. 

“Hey,” he sharply caught your attention again. Chance had already hopped out of the Rover, onto the curb, and was now holding the door open while offering an assisting hand out to you. Chan dug out his wallet and pulled out a card to pass you. “If you ever need anything, call me. I mean it.” He reflexively pointed at Chance. “I saw the look on your face; I’m not trying to pick up on your girl. Don’t get weird. I wouldn’t do you like that.”

Chance noticeably huffed for a moment as you appreciatively placed a peck on Chan’s temple before you slid out of the car.

“Stay out of trouble,” you teased with a wave.

“Oh, I will,” Chan gave a half-crazed laugh. “Will you?”

Chan peeled off down the road in the Rover, but Chance was already stalking down the street without you. You trotted off to catch up with him. “Chance?”

Not even glancing back at you, Chance only kept his stubborn pace. With how long it took to make Chan pull over, you’d ended up maybe two blocks away from the storefront where your mugger had disappeared into.

“Chance! Wait up!” you called, hurrying up more. He only kept stomping along. You quickly had to move up to as much of a sprint as you could muster in your short heels once he reached the door of the convenience store–

Only for the mugger to come blustering out past him, knocking Chance flat on his ass with a curse and knocking over an umbrella stand on his way down the sidewalk all while holding your fucking purse. An alarm started blaring in the convenience store while Chance scrambled back onto his feet, spitting curses left and right before he grabbed a hefty umbrella laying next to where he fell and took off in hot pursuit. He was able to pursue far faster than you were, taking off behind the robber until you saw him pause down the street. You watched curiously as Chance gracefully bent down and grabbed a sizable piece of concrete chipped off the curb. There was nothing you could do but watch in rapt intrigue now, of course, as Chance cocked the heavy umbrella back into a picture perfect baseball swing and set up the rock into a perfect line drive down the alleyway. You stood, stunned, as all that came back was a yelp in the distance, and Chance coolly entered the alley.

Once you set into a sprint again, you were able to catch up as Chance stooped down beside your assailant, now splayed out on the ground while he balled his fists into the guy’s hoodie.

“You?!” the mugger croaked.

“How did it go again?” Chance mockingly wondered. “Oh, that’s right. Wallets and phones, please. And the purse.” Now Chance turned, making you freeze. This animal sure looked like Chance, but far more resembled a snarling dog for the time being. “Anything else?” he asked you.

“Er,” you stammered dumbly, regathering your thoughts as you began hearing sirens in the distance. “The keys would be good. The keys to your car?”

“Ah,” Chance nodded as he turned back to face the mugger, “and the keys.”

“Don’t have ‘em,” he rasped, yelping again as Chance reeled. 

“What?!”

“I ditched the keys with the car,” the robber cried, “I even left your settings alone!” 

Chance dropped the robber on the ground and got up, pacing a tight circle again with his hands on his hips. “Still no keys and no car,” he ranted under his breath, “unbelievable.”

“Look,” the mugger desperately offered as he scrambled to his feet. “Take ‘em, your wallets and phones. Even take the purse.” He locked eyes with you and stepped right up. Sure enough, he shoved it into your hands before sprinting off. You stared down the alley, wondering what made him so cooperative all of a sudden when you pulled open your purse–

–Only to be faced with a bag full of cash.

The sirens were closer.

You ran up to Chance, trying to get his attention.

“Chance,” you hurriedly tried to reason with him, “I understand you’re upset–”

“Upset?! Penny, I’m pissed!” he laughed in stark disbelief. “I can’t believe–”

“I know,” you interrupted, “but we have to–”

“Hey! You two!” came a voice behind you both. The two of you froze, slowly turning to see two cops at the end of the alley.

---

It was funny, honestly. You ended up at the police station anyway, but in a holding cell. This wasn’t the plan. Chance sat with his head in his hands, still stewing. In the corner, a drunken bum peacefully slept. The cops had assured you that they pretty much believed you both, but just needed to get the account of the shop owner… who they mysteriously could not get a hold of and decided to drive back out there instead after they dropped you off. 

“So…” you lightly began, trying to distract from the doom pervading the cell. Chance barely lifted his head. “What’s this about the Luxembourg Merger?”

“Oh, don’t get me started,” Chance groaned into his lap. “Chan never lets anything go.” When you stubbornly stayed quiet, waiting, he finally let up. “Fine. Maybe a year ago, I was set to finalize a deal with a partner in Luxembourg. High profile merger, as I’m guessing you could figure out. Chan was letting me take care of it all by myself for once. So we’re out at dinner, and Chan keeps nudging me to make the move and seal the deal. Sell the deal and seal the deal. He always said it was that easy. But it didn’t feel right, so I just kept waving him off. Finally, I’m ready… and Luxembourg gets a phone call.”

“Competitor?” you asked.

“His wife died,” Chance sighed. “The guy was so grief-stricken that he retired two weeks later. His replacement burned all bridges and started over new.”

You sat up, puzzling over this. “And Chan thinks that was on you?”

Chance solemnly nodded. “You saw how he is about this ex he won’t tell me about. He’s all about fate and karma and destiny. Luxembourg’s late wife wasn’t what lost us the merger. I just don’t have the game he does.”

“So Chan plays games,” you pondered, “but why does that mean you have to? You’re chasing after all these things that look like Chan. You have the clothes and the car, and I can see you’re trying to chase tail the same way–”

“I get it,” Chance whined. “I know I can’t do it the same, okay?”

“Who says you need to?!” you blurted, surprising him into sitting up and looking at you now. “That’s my whole point! What kind of dates fall for his games anyway? The kind that you want?”

“Er,” Chance gawped. “Maybe?”

You were flustered as you faced him more. “Do you even know?!” Chance met you with only that same stare. “Oh my god,” you groaned with a shake of your head, “I knew something–”

“Hold on hold on hold on,” Chance interrupted you. “What did you know?!”

You sighed hard. This was going to sound nuts. You hazarded one more glance at the drunk in the corner, who you were not surprised to see hadn’t moved an inch. Scanning the station, you saw that it was still empty, the one other guy on the night shift off in some other room for the time being. You faced Chance more seriously now. “You showed me how you would kiss ‘Daisy’, right?”

“Right,” Chance nodded warily, eyes widened a tick as he had no idea what the hell you were up to.

“Right,” you agreed, “but how would you kiss ‘Zelda’?”

“What?!” Chance laughed incredulously. “What does that have to do with anything?!”

Now you were standing up, pacing in a little circle. You could sort of see why he did it now. It felt more productive than just steaming. “Look,” you babbled, “I just think that–”

Chance impatiently stood up across you. “Okay,” he huffed, “you’re asking me to show you how I would‘ve kissed ‘Zelda’?”

“Yes,” you emphasized, before you caught up to what he said. “I mean, I was asking–”

Of course, that was too late. 

You backed up half a step in stark surprise as Chance closed the distance between you and, with one hand on your waist, his lips pressed soft against yours, gentle yet unyielding – until you shoved him the hell off of you. The two of you stared each other down, breathing hard and eyes wide.

“Again?!” you flustered. 

“You asked!”

“I was asking you to tell me, you lunatic! And besides, I meant it was the exact same kiss again!”

“Excuse me?” he sneered, folding his arms stubbornly.

“You heard me,” you rolled your eyes. “You don’t know what you want, so you just treat girls the same and hope to get different results.”

“That’s insane–”
“You play games even though you don’t want to, and you do everything your mentor does hoping to get what he has. How do you know Chan doesn’t think it was you holding back that lost you the Luxembourg Merger?! Because it sounds like you’re too careful with everyone, including ‘Daisy’ and ‘Zelda’, and everything is so vague that you just lose out.”

Chance fumbled a bit at that one, lost for words until a presence at the bars of the holding cell startled you both.

“Hey, you two,” the officer greeted. “I just heard from my partners. The owner is pretty inconsolable. Poor little old lady was scared out of her mind. Is there anyone you can call in the meantime to corroborate your story and we can get this over with?”

You and Chance exchanged glances for a beat before you lit up. Thinking fast, you dug into your shirt to pull out the business card Chan had handed you back in the Rover. Both Chance and the officer averted their gazes until you rebuttoned.

“Oh, no,” Chance shook his head adamantly as he eyed the card. “If Chan hears–”

“Remember the part of our story where we went to the club?” you brightly asked the officer before handing him the card through the bars. Chance feebly resumed his seat at the far wall of the cell and buried his head in his hands again. The officer dialed a phone on the wall and looked you both over as someone picked up. You tried to be sly as you stepped closer to Chance and put a hand on his shoulder before he shrugged it off.

“No no, sir, they don’t need bail,” you heard the officer assure Chan behind you. “I just need to know where – oh?... Yes. And then?... Ah, I see. Well, thank you, sir. We’ll let you know if we need anything else.” The officer shuffled a couple forms and clipboards out of his desk before coming back and returning Chan’s card to you. He pointedly eyed you both. “Well, Mr. Bang’s side of your story lines up pretty well, but you didn’t have to be so modest with my partners. We deal with couples more often than you think. Buying condoms isn’t a crime, you know.”

Chance pathetically groaned behind you, completely and utterly mortified by Chan’s lie. The officer leaned closer to you.

“I get it,” he knowingly nodded, “my wife is the more bold one of us, too. Now, if you could both just fill these out with your information, we’ll let you know when we’re done with our investigation. It should be pretty open and shut, and if your gentleman friend gives us his car’s details, we’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“Thank you,” you smiled warmly as the officer excused himself to grab your personal items. You turned back to Chance and thrust a clipboard at him. “Don’t be a baby.” you admonished.

“Condoms.” Chance groused as he scribbled on the clipboard. “Unbelievable.”

“That’s a good mentor you have,” you rebuked. “Don’t watch what he does, listen to what he says. I think you’re way better off there.”

“Thanks,” he replied stiffly, handing you his clipboard without so much as a glance. You grabbed it and handed both to the officer once he came and opened the holding cell, almost waiting in abject desperation as he reviewed both sets of paperwork. The officer tapped one of the clipboards and showed it to you.

“Your boyfriend forgot to write the color,” the officer jovially chuckled.

You looked back at Chance, still brooding behind you before you grabbed the clipboard. It would look weird if you asked your “boyfriend” what color his car was or asked him to write it himself. You frantically wracked your brain. For how much you’d love to get out by now, you could‘ve snapped the dumb clipboard in your hands by accident. What the hell color was the stupid Lexus? It felt like you last saw it a century ago by this point in the night. Straining a little more, you suddenly recalled that first dumb time that Chance kissed you earlier in the night, how he had looked while he was holding the door open for you and begging you to get in the car so he could just give you a ride home like you agreed. Feeling mysteriously calmer now, you quickly jotted down dark blue and thrust the clipboard at the officer. He handed over your things, minus all the cash from the convenience store and with some fingerprinting dust scattered in your purse, and you tried to casually pull your dejected compatriot outside.

You shook off the shock of late-night cold and Chance sighed, pulling off his suit jacket and slinging it around your shoulders. “Please don’t tell me that’s cliche,” he grumbled wanly before he set off down the alley beside the police station, seemingly not caring which way he went.

“Hey!” you called as you fully pulled on his suit jacket and chased after him. He just kept going. “Hey!” you tried again, before you finally caught on. “Chance! I’m sorry!”

The magic words. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated once he paused and half-turned. “I was hard on you a lot tonight, okay? And I shouldn’t have been.”

“I’m not even that upset,” he muttered as the alley opened up to a cross road. He simply stepped off the curb and crossed to the next backstreet. “Just embarrassed, I guess. It’s weird how you can go a pretty long time feeling so sure of yourself but also second-guessing yourself at every step.”

“Hey,” you soothed as you caught up, “it’s not like I’m doing any better. Some primal part of me does think Chan’s attractive and that’s definitely a problem.”

Chance actually wrinkled his nose up with an involuntary chuckle. “I get it, though,” he grinned, “he’s got game. He doesn’t hit home runs for nothing.”

“Speaking of home runs!” you slapped your forehead as you recalled. “Where the hell did you learn to swing like that?!”

“I like baseball,” Chance shrugged, “shoot me.”

“Well, Chan doesn’t seem like the baseball type,” you mused, “so that’s something you don’t do the same. Been to any games?”

“Of course,” Chance chuckled, “I keep all my tickets. I even have the ticket to my first game in my wallet.”

“And not a condom?” you smirked. He reflexively shoved your shoulder with a playful grin, relaxing a little more.

“Don’t be gross, and you shouldn’t keep condoms in your wallet anyway– Wait. Can’t you give me my wallet now?”

You paused abruptly in the middle of the street you were crossing as you realized he was right. As you were getting your stuff back, the officer just threw everything into your purse. You shuffled the contents around in search of it, but rapidly made a different discovery.

“Oh, fuck–”

“What is it?” he worriedly asked, peering into the bag with you.

“The asshole ditched your keys with your car, but my keys are gone, too, for the cafe and my apartment,” you moaned. What a nightmare. You’d have to use the after hours entrance and wake up your little old super to let you into your apartment. 

“Well this is exactly why you shouldn’t have–”

“Once again, I’m not apologizing for giving into demands when that guy had a knife,” you brusquely retorted. “I apologized for the car even though it’s just a car, but I’m not apologizing for that. ”

“Oh, you’re not apologizing for that?” Chance sardonically nodded, getting worked up again with how ornery you were getting. 

“Oh, just like you’re not apologizing to ‘Zelda’ or ‘Daisy’?!”

“You get hung up on the weirdest shit.” Chance argued. 

You snatched his phone out of your purse and clicked it on. Even more incongruous with the shape of Chan he was trying to fit into, Chance’s wallpaper was of himself cuddling a precious golden retriever. You pulled up his text messages, ducking him in the middle of the street as he cursed and repeatedly tried to grab the phone back before you could make your point. It wasn’t difficult to find your target. A contact named Jisung’s cute friend had one message under it in his messages app, having recently sent her one simple text earlier in the night.

>>Hey, where’d you run off to?

Still masterfully evading Chance and his multiple beratements on the empty street, you hurriedly typed a new message.

>>You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.

“See?!” you valiantly shoved the phone in his face. “See how easy that is?” With one more lunge, Chance interrupted you trying to hit backspace, and you only ended up sending the dumb thing.

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” Chance scolded. “All you want to do is teach me shit and be right, that’s all you‘ve been doing all night long. You‘ve tried solving all my problems and you’re getting off on it.” He easily plucked his phone out of your hands now.

“I’m sorry–” you meagerly winced. No matter how much you wanted him to get over himself and do the right thing, you never wanted to force him to do it.

“I bet! I bet you are! But we just keep doing this dance when you clearly wanted nothing to do with me from the beginning of this stupid night, and all I wanted to do was spend time with a cute girl and maybe vent for once.”

“Well,” you sighed before puffing up your chest, “if you weren’t such an ass about things, you could‘ve actually spent time with one of those pretty girls instead of trying some asinine game–”

“I meant you, you unbelievably frustrating woman!” Chance snapped, but immediately shut up with a mortified flush that crawled up from his ears to his cheeks. What was even worse was you felt your face heat up as well – first in bashful excitement, and then in frustrated realization.

So you did the only thing that made sense in all this sudden confrontation. You stormed off without him, picking the backstreet across from you as a perfectly suitable direction.

“Penny,” Chance groaned loudly in exasperation behind you, knowing how this worked well enough by now, “would you knock it off, please?”

“I don’t know how I can, considering you’re actually pretty adept at playing games with every girl you meet, including me,” you stubbornly shrugged, still walking forward and deciding to turn down the street a ways before picking another alley at random to head into. Humorously, this neighborhood was starting to look familiar; somehow you’d made it back close to where you began this whole stupid night. “I don’t know why I thought I’m any different,” you shot back behind your shoulder. You next ducked into a side street that opened up to a small, dimly lit parking lot between a number of businesses. 

“You are different,” Chance impatiently sighed, “have I ever lied to you once this whole night or led you to believe I’m not into you?!”

You were walking so fast you almost ran right into a dark blue sedan you hadn’t seen behind a silver car, but it finally made you pause now in the small lot of cars, at least doing him the favor of actually considering what he asked. Chance may have been brusque or occasionally abrasive with you all night, but hadn’t you been, too? Every lingering touch or glance was speaking far louder in your mind. Still, you didn’t feel convinced. 

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” you challenged him, preemptively folding your arms. Chance reeled, frustratedly running his fingers back through his hair while he mustered up the words.

“Do you really expect me to just say it?! Just hi, I’m Chance, I think you’re really pretty and would like to hang out with you?!”

“Yes, you maniac!” you huffed. For a moment, you were distracted by a moment of familiarity, something jogging your memory to the beginning of the night. Then you noticed it, right before Chance blustered on.

“Think about that for a second,” Chance laughed meanly, “because you know for a fact that wouldn’t work.”

“Fine,” you seethed, “you didn’t lie, but you weren’t up front with me. And that’s bullshit, because you’re the one who wanted someone to talk to and I’ve been more than willing to listen all night.”

Chance looked a little bruised at that one, nursing at his bottom lip as you both caught your breath. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed,” he sighed as his eyes bore into you, “but I’m not exactly great at expressing my feelings to the people they’re in regards to.”

“Oh, I noticed,” you condescendingly nodded, “just like I noticed that’s your stupid car you’re standing next to.”

“Right,” Chance exaggeratedly nodded right back, “my– my what?!”

Chance stopped abruptly, catching you off guard and sucking the air out of your mounting argument as he whipped around. He instantly put his hands to his head in shock, before putting them on his hips and pacing a tight circle before he manically took a lap around the car. You heard a jangle as he picked up his keys, apparently having been left on the hood against the windshield. He stared at them in disbelief as he walked back up to you. “It’s my fucking car,” he ranted in astonishment. Suddenly, Chance grabbed your hand and pulled you in for a tight hug. “Holy shit,” he enthused, “you found my fucking car!”

Maybe it was how rigid you went as he scooped you up, maybe it was the way Chance noticed just how close he was holding you, but he quickly dropped you back to steady yourself on your feet. The silence in the parking lot was full of pretense. Finally, Chance made a move, beeping the car unlocked and opening the passenger side door. He was a spitting image of himself earlier that night as he wordlessly held the door open. 

“... What?” you bluntly asked, your arms still firmly crossed. 

“Come on,” he waved into the car, “I owe you a ride.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” you grumbled, shifting your weight to your other foot uncomfortably in the chilly night air. “You offered a ride and I accepted; it just never happened.”

“Right,” he nodded, “so I want to make it happen.”

You still stared at each other in the dark parking lot, only lit by the lights sitting over the back doors of businesses. This shouldn’t have been a tough decision. Chance was stubborn, he was hot-headed, he wasn’t up front with you, and he pretty openly let you think he believed you were a terrible nuisance all night. He was also incredibly nice when he warmed up and a bit goofy in a charming way, and you liked how feisty he could get. The contrasting thoughts were a bit excruciating the more you let them sit, especially as he just held your gaze expectantly. 

“Alright,” you finally shrugged, “fine.”

Chance let up a small, victorious grin as you took the few steps between you and him, and you coldly ducked past him to get into the passenger seat. You reminded yourself of every annoying thing he’d done that night, trying to drown out every time you caught him looking at you or when he held you close at the club. If Chance just took you home you could forget about him forever. 

Once you settled in, Chance closed the door and trotted around to jump into the driver’s seat, looking right at home. The silence you let permeate the space was heavy. 

“Thank you, again,” Chance carefully tried, “for finding the car. I know it’s just a car. I wouldn’t even have noticed–”

“It’s not just a car,” you tersely cut him off, staring at your purse sitting on your knees. Chance paused, taken aback for a moment. 

“What?”

“It’s not just a car.” you bluntly sighed. “I’ve been trivializing it all night and that’s not right, even if I was just trying to diffuse the tension. If my car was stolen, let alone stolen when I was standing right in front of it, I’d be a wreck. It’s not just a car, it’s your car. You just paid it off and you’re proud of it, and you should be. I’m glad we found your car.”

Chance turned to stare at you in bewilderment, mouth hanging agape like he was trying to find any words whatsoever. Your shoulders tensed as he cracked a wide, smitten smile out of the corner of your eye. “That’s really nice to hear, I honestly appreciate that. You know–”

You didn’t give him an opportunity to finish, now rifling through your purse, the pockets on the inside of the door, the glovebox. 

“... What the hell are you doing?” Chance asked curiously. 

“Seeing if that asshole dropped my keys in here before he ditched the car.” you muttered. Chance sighed, catching on now that you were still upset. 

“I’m sorry, by the way.” he weakly attempted. 

“For what?” you asked, trying to sound nonplussed. 

“For acting so weird earlier,” Chance continued, watching as you twisted in your seat to look in the back. “I… I know I’m copying Chan. I got defensive because I think I was actually jealous. You just gave him all this free attention and were all cozy with him and he didn’t even have to try. It was pathetic of me. I’m sorry.” 

He reached into the pocket on his door and wordlessly drew out a small flashlight to hand you. You clicked it on, refusing to acknowledge his bland attempt at an apology and beginning to look under the stupid seats, bending down over the center console to get a better look. 

Chance tried a disbelieving chuckle. “Can you believe it? Being jealous of Chan? He’s exactly the type of barbarian I’m very sure you have no time or interest for. You even said so yourself, which shows how great I am at listening.”

He jumped as you snapped back up to attention now, fighting through the rush of blood to your head. 

“Right,” you sarcastically agreed, firmly clicking off the flashlight and thrusting it back into his hands, “but Chan hides his insecurities way better. I have a clear picture of what I’m dealing with when I talk to him. I imagine his dates are gone in the morning before he wakes up. I’m guessing your dates find cab fare but then you tell them they can stay for coffee. I know where he and I stand, but I can’t say the same for you and me. If you insist on copying Chan, you have a lot to learn.”

“Look, I know I’m not right to do it or even particularly good at it–”

You scoffed hard. “That’s an understatement.”

“I’m just trying to get ahead,” Chance retorted, “he has what I want and I–”

You laughed out loud now, shutting him up. “What do you want?! It looks pretty clear what Chan wants. He wants to wake up next to someone hot that’ll make him feel like a big man because he has a big job and a big car. Do you want that?”

“No!” Chance barked at you. 

“No?” you rudely chuckled. “So you do know what you want? Because, to reiterate, it looks like you even treat girls the same but expect a romance to magically pop out of it.”

“Would you stop saying that?!” Chance glowered. “I don’t treat girls the same as he does.”

“I don’t know,” you insisted with a huff, “maybe you should stop treating them the same as each other then. It’s apparently mine, ‘Zelda’s and ‘Daisy’s fault that we were paying attention to men that aren’t you, after you weren’t clear about your intentions with any of us. At least that’s how I’m seeing it. I’m willing to bet if you kissed me and not kissed me like how you’d kiss them, it’d be exactly the same for a third time.”

You noticed Chance was leaning forward in his seat, hand tight on the steering wheel, and you realized now that you were sitting up, too, the two of you squaring off once again – just in his car this time.

“Willing to bet?” Chance growled.

“Yes, you asshole–”

You ate those words immediately, but you almost knew you would. Chance’s hand was on yours and tugging you closer, having let go of the steering wheel, and you let him, willing to let him put his money where his mouth was. His other hand reached up to cup your face, and now you could tell his fingers were freezing after he gave you his suit jacket. He still hadn’t kissed you, though, his lips hovering nearly against your own. Now you were just waiting.

“Chan was right,” you grinned provokingly, “you do hesitate.”

“Shut up.” Chance playfully scolded you, almost breathless by now.

“Anything wrong?” you mused as you leaned back a few inches. Chance’s hand on yours reeled him back closer to you, until he was leaning over the center console, but he still hadn’t kissed you.

“No,” he insisted, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as his lips tempted even closer to yours, “nothing’s wrong. I’m just afraid if I kiss you then I’ll have to drive you home and the night will end.”

“Who ever said that?” you smirked, all while very well aware that you couldn’t tell if it was his heartbeat or yours that you were hearing.

“As if you wanted to stay out all night with some yuppie asshole.” he retorted. Your resolve crumbled the moment he took a turn at pulling away, teasingly pulling on your hand as he leaned further back into his seat.

“As if you were rearing to take home some waitress.” you shot back, challenging him more as you refused to be pulled forward, instead tugging him back closer. You just weren’t expecting him to meet your taunt and crowd you back into your seat, almost holding you in place.

“You didn’t say anything about that waitress being really pretty and not taking any shit from anyone, though.” he murmured so close to your lips without kissing you still, any more jokes long gone by now.

“If you keep this up you’re going to make me call Chan to come give you a push.” you teased him again.

“Call him,” Chance smiled, “tell him I’m trying it my way for once.”

You had another retort forming in your chest before Chance cut you off, his lips finally pressing against yours. He was firm but fleeting, the embrace only lasting for a solid moment before he pulled back an inch or so again. Your face heated up as you realized he pulled a gasp out of you.

“Was it the same kiss?” Chance quietly asked you in the dark, the lilt in his voice making your head start to spin.

“No,” you grinned, cautiously letting yourself enjoy this development, “but you better be careful; you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Chance gently pulled on your hand again. “I think I do– hey!”

His newfound confidence was eaten alive when you took that bet, leaning well over the center console now and kissing Chance with all the vigor he made you pray for while he kept you waiting. Chance jumped but quickly scrambled to keep up, now pulling a muffled yelp out of you when he tilted his seat back and yanked you up and over into his lap. Now, perched on top of him in the driver’s seat of the Lexus, you fervently clutched onto each other, each hot kiss growing progressively more breathless until you were both gasping into each other. In a sense, you were finally seeing more of Chance than you had all night, everything you’d been fighting to see under him or inside him, everything he’d been hiding or keeping quiet. It also went without saying that once he was fully worked up, he was insatiable. His thumb caressed your cheek as he kissed you, he let a low, quiet groan fall from his lips every time your tongues met, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Every sound he made or every way he touched you only riled you up more, having finally cracked him and getting him to simply exist with you in the limited space of his car. You were heating up; you could feel it when you led his chilled fingers down to your throat and down further to the first buttons of your blouse.

“Whoa, wait–” Chance croaked, suddenly sitting up at attention under you like he was roused from a dream. “Are you sure?”

“What?” You cracked a smile at him, not like it mattered much in the dark. He flailed until he felt where you put him: right on the bill still tucked in your bra. “I was just giving you your cash back.”

“It’s rude to refuse a tip,” Chance laughed, relaxing again as he shoved the bill back into your cleavage, “but I will take this back. I don’t want you having Chan on speed-dial.” It was your turn to jump as Chance reached back in for Chan’s card and flicked it into the passenger’s seat.

“Then don’t think of it as me refusing the tip,” you joked as you leaned back down, making Chance gasp as your lips grazed his cheek before they trailed down to his neck. “Think of it as paying for your two cups of coffee.”

“That’s a really expensive cup of coffee,” Chance chuckled, his breathless laugh hitching as you nipped at his neck.

“I’m a really bad waitress,” you thoughtfully reminded him.

“No you’re not,” Chance shook his head. “And if I can’t tip you that way then maybe this will be acceptable.”

You were about to question him when Chance tipped the seat back more, forcing a regrettably wimpy cry of surprise out of you when you landed on top of him with a thud. This did, however, make it easier for him to twist and guide you over and into the backseat before he climbed in between your legs. “What’s this exactly?” you finally managed to interrogate.

“It’s not exactly proper of me but I’ve been thinking of these stupid buttons all night,” Chance moaned into your neck.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” you quipped, breathlessly letting your question trail off into a soft giggle before you were cut off when his teeth grazed your throat. Finally, you could feel his long fingers reach in between where your chests met and you felt another button release. You shifted around to get more comfortable, a tall order in a small space, but you finally found some room with your head almost against the door and one of your legs splayed over the reclined driver’s seat where Chance had ejected you from. It wasn’t exactly cozy, but it wasn’t exactly like comfort was on your mind as a main priority. All you could focus on were fleeting sensations – Chance’s lips on your neck, his fingers on the buttons of your blouse, your skirt shimmied up around your hips… And Chance, hard, pressed between where your hips met his, laying in the backseat of his car after a whirlwind of a night. The realization instantly made you bashful, your face heating up all the way from your chest and now you felt yourself stubbornly wanting to make sure he worked for it. He couldn’t just win it without earning it.

Chance groaned when you rolled your hips up against his, but the alluring sound turned into a startled cry when you pushed him up and off of you. You shoved him back until he was sitting against the door across from you, shoved between the seat back and the head of his seat that was still tilted down, and he grunted in surprise as you helped yourself to his lap again. His hands still wouldn’t leave you alone, greedily grabbing onto your hips as you played with the buttons of his shirt.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying not to gasp when he leaned his nose into your cleavage now that he was eye level with it.

“I want everything, I want all of it–” he impatiently whined into your chest. He nearly whimpered when you caressed your fingers back through his hair before playfully tugging his head back. Chance barely even noticed you’d opened his shirt by now, your fingertips on your free hand tracing his collarbones as he looked up at you expectantly.

“Tell me what exactly you want,” you insisted, now leaning away so you could slowly work his belt open.

“I want you,” Chance enthused, with a grin you could practically hear in the dark. He didn’t pay any attention to his belt buckle in your hand. “I want you tonight and now and I want to think about you and this while I’m at work next week.”

“Is that all?” you taunted, and you were hoping your tone was covering up how pitifully your heart had swelled at that sentiment.

“Nope,” Chance adamantly shook his head, his breath smoothing over your throat as his lips dove back into your skin. “If you’d allow it, I want to know you in the daylight. I want to know your name, I want your number, I want to call you and take you out.”

You could‘ve burst into flames from how much your face heated up, and you tugged his head back away from you again, trying to defiantly cling onto any control of yourself you had left as hard as you were clinging on to him. “You don’t think we make an odd pair?” You teasingly wondered, trying not to let your voice waver from adrenaline or sound too earnest.

“I don’t care,” he adamantly shook his head, “all I know is you make me feel balanced and I want to know what it’s like to have more of that.” Chance nearly shrieked in surprise as you reached in between the both of you and hazarded a brazen reach over the growing bulge in his suit pants. “You lunatic,” he chuckled as he tried to lean you away from him, “don’t distract me. I want you.”

“It sounds like you want me on your terms,” you half-joked, pulling on Chance’s shirt collar and twisting so you dropped down to lay on the backseat again with him again.

“I want you however you’ll let me,” Chance retorted against your cheek before he kissed you again. It was almost disarming, how gracefully his hand swept down your shoulder, down your chest, and in between your legs, like it was his turn to distract you now and give you a taste of your own medicine. You let up a soft gasp when his fingers caressed your thighs, and you could almost feel him smirk. He kissed you again, a shorter one this time. “I want you however you’ll let me,” he repeated, “even if that’s only at night, even if I never get to know your name.”

“Then how do I know you don’t just want me to whip you into shape?” you prodded him, tugging him closer to kiss him again and lobby some of that lead back to you. “What’s so special about feeling balanced?”

Chance groaned against your lips, all while his touches got progressively braver. You reached down and returned the favor, working his firmness into your grip. “I feel balanced at work but not outside of it,” he moaned into you, “that’s why I’m always on the clock. Tonight’s the longest I’ve been out in weeks, but ever since you first talked to me I feel so much more productive than I have in months. I’ll go to the gym, go camping, go hiking, what-the-hell-ever if it means I get to feel this good. You know I haven’t taken my dog out for anything except walks in two weeks? You make me want to do everything I want but haven’t taken the time to do.”

Chance jumped with a curse when your grip on him accidentally tightened too much. You winced sympathetically. “Then how do I know this isn’t some manic pixie dream girl fantasy of yours?”

“Who the hell actually wants that?” Chance laughed flippantly as he gently pulled your hand out of the way. “You didn’t show me the magic of life or something, nor do I want you to. For all intents and purposes, tonight was hell, and sometimes people are hell, and sometimes this city is hell. But, what you did do was show me how you deal with that with a mostly cool head, and I really admire the hell out of that. I admire the hell out of you. Now I’m just wondering what’s got you acting so doubtful.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “I make enough money to eat. I live in a tiny apartment, and my car situation leaves a lot to be desired. I’m also constantly on the clock, just like you, but only because I have a hard time saying no when someone asks for some help.”

“Like tonight?”

The question stung more than you wished it would, and Chance seemed to know it. You almost flinched when he cut through the tension himself, leaning down to kiss your cheek again.

“When was the last time you went out?” he murmured against your skin.

“It’s been awhile, but it’s not like I never go out.” you defended.

“And do you feel good being out with me?”

“I… I really do. I honestly do.” you admitted. “Tonight sucked but I really like getting to know you.”

“Then how would you feel about seeing me more and getting to know me even more?”

You nursed your lip between your teeth as you rolled that idea over in your head. The sheer amount that Chance seemed to brighten up and relax with you since he started actually telling you how he felt was almost dizzying. 

“How about,” you metered out, “we see how tonight goes?”

“I’ll take it,” Chance nodded eagerly. “Then tell me what you want.”

“You already know what I want,” you laughed. 

“Then show me,” he challenged. 

“Show you?”

Chance nodded, but he didn’t get another word in when you pushed him back off of you so you could slink back into his lap. You both moaned as you kissed him again, the hot breath shared between you contributing to the fogged windows of his car, and Chance groaned as you got a grip on him again. Now you both held your breath as you pulled your panties aside, his tip brushing right up against your entrance. You could see Chance’s eyes glazed over with excitement in the meager light from outside. His hands weren’t on you now, instead gripping onto the seat as you locked eyes and slowly eased yourself down onto his length. You took your time, getting used to him while you savored the way Chance leaned his head back against the seat, groaning thick and low when you finally began rolling your hips against his. 

“How’s this?” you finally asked him. 

“So good,” Chance croaked with a grin, “I’ve never had anonymous sex before.”

“Anonymous?” you breathlessly laughed as you ground down on him. “But I already know your name.”

Chance nearly jumped, caught off guard before he chuckled. “Oh?”

You clutched onto the collar of his shirt, pulling the two of you closer with a mischievous smirk before you kissed and nipped at his neck, making your way to moan languidly in his ear. “Oh, Chance–”

You just hadn’t expected to be cut off by Chance’s enthusiastic groan in reply, his hands wrapping around your waist and thrusting up against you harder, maybe even faster than just a moment before. 

“Say it again,” he hungrily urged, “say my name again.”

“Chance,” you repeated, more of a giggle than a simper as you bounced yourself on his rigid member. The way he stretched and filled you was sublime, just like the way he fucked into you with more fervor. It was probably only five minutes before he finally tipped you back in his arms so he could lay you down in the backseat again, but every moan and every thrust against each other made it feel so much longer. And, every time you sighed his name, Chance almost shivered, his hips rolling into you like he wanted to get lost inside you. “Now you try,” you snickered as he nuzzled your neck, nosing into your cleavage to nip at your breasts while his greedy hands grabbed at your panties and worked them off. 

“Mmh Penny,” Chance playfully moaned into your chest with a hearty laugh as he tossed your panties into the front seat by your purse, before he spread your legs again and pressed his hips back against yours. 

“That sounds a bit cornier in this context,” you chuckled, mostly from the ridiculousness but also, in part, from Chance’s lips on your neck again. You squirmed as he nuzzled into you, his hot length pressed back up against your dripping entrance. “Eager?” you teased.

“If we do anything else I’ll blow my shot,” he whined into your shoulder, “and besides, you feel incredible. Now, you pretty much jumped me earlier. Are you sure we don’t need protection?”

“I’m sure,” you gladly nodded, nearly thankful as Chance sank back into you. Your legs relaxed down to be casually slung around his hips, one of your work heels almost falling off from where it was barely hooked onto your toes. That same stretch consumed all your thoughts again, and as Chance took his sweet time thrusting into you in the backseat of his car, you could almost feel confident that this was the start of something and not the end. Then again, that thought terrified you, even though you knew plain well that it shouldn’t. You squeezed your thighs around Chance again, arching your back up and getting his attention back with your open shirt. “Harder,” you sweetly urged him.

“Oh, come on baby,” he stubbornly growled into your chest, one of his hands greedily groping and massaging at your breasts, “if you hurry me up I’ll bust.”

“Then get me there with you,” you goaded him. He groaned at the taunt, and even more as you grabbed his hand on your chest and led it back down beneath your waist. “Please?” you pleaded.

Chance seemed emboldened by your begging, apparently unaware that you just wanted to move faster than your feelings for a moment, but that didn’t stop it from feeling incredible when he sat up under your hips more so he could stroke you between your legs. “This will get you there?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes,” you breathlessly assured him, “more if you can give me a little more room.”

“How flexible are you?” he panted, trying to find a rhythm between his fingers and thrusts.

Taking a quick account of the size of the Lexus, it wasn’t like he could bend you in half in the backseat, right? “Try me.”

You were met with a confident grunt of resolve as Chance ducked down, grappled your leg that was lying against the back of the backseat, and slung it over his shoulder before he sat up a little more. Now you found yourself impressively spread open, albeit twisted a bit at the middle and your heel now comically pressed up against the roof of the sedan. You could‘ve come up with a clever remark if Chance didn’t get right back to work, lewdly wetting his fingertips on his tongue before stroking you in time with his resumed thrusts. Instead, all you could do was grip whatever was closest to your hands, which were now Chance’s arm and the back of the front seat closest to you as you let out a broken whimper of pleasure.

“Just listen to you, god you’re unbelievable.” Chance enthused, so lost in it that he probably couldn’t tell how much those words warmed you up. He was so lost in it, really, that the tempo he set was almost automatic and perfect now, this angle arcing up into your sweet spot while he caressed and tickled you closer to the edge. The windows of the Lexus were now almost fully opaque with how hot you’d both gotten, warming each other up in the cold parking lot, and the closer you got to your climax, the more you were able to push aside the impending worry of what would come after the night finally ended. 

“Penny, baby,” Chance interrupted your thought, “how much more?”

“How much more you got?” you hurriedly asked. Your thighs were beginning to sore a bit, but you could go as long as he gave you, honestly.

“To tell the truth,” he groaned, “I’m just about there.”

“Me, too,” you excitedly nodded, “so get me there and give it to me.”

“Yeah?” Chance panted, a breathless laugh lacing his ribbing. “You want it?”

“I need it, Chance,” you relented, gasping hard as his fingers’ tempo didn’t let up, but only rubbed a little more firmly.

“I need it, too,” he replied, his thrusts getting a little more ragged but still pushing so deep into just the right spot.

“Then do it,” you begged, your hold on his arm even tighter now, “do it and I’ll–”

It was just that good, that you couldn’t even finish your thought. Instead, with a shared cry, you both clutched hard onto each other as you came nearly at the same time, your climax barely preceding his own. Chance faltered immediately, falling into you as you felt your throbbing depths milking his length of every last drop he had left. You caught him, stroking his hair and kissing his temple as his hips slowed to a stop against you, and all you could feel was the serene quiet of you melting into each other in convalescence. 

That quiet lasted, though, and for more than just a minute. You continued quietly stroking Chance’s hair as you both caught your breath. His bared chest against your own was still so warm, and in all this stillness you could feel his heartbeat echo through your own skin. 

“So about that ride–” Chance murmured into your shoulder before you gently squeezed his arm.

“Let’s just rest for a second, okay?” you softly asked him.

“Gladly.” Chance nodded, and you were glad, too, content that he was happy to just lay in the backseat with you for a bit in your afterglow. You gazed through the windows that were just beginning to clear up, out into the dark that was inevitably going to bring daytime, and you let yourself ignore that. Instead, you closed your eyes, deciding to relax for a moment with Chance in your arms after a hell of a night.

---

The only problem was that a few hours passed in that moment, and you woke up to find a stream of sunlight falling right on your face. During your rest, you and Chance had somehow rearranged to a slightly more comfortable spooning position with him behind you, except this meant you were nearly falling off the seat alright when you bolted upright, startling Chance into waking up alongside you.

“Hey, what’s the matter– oh my god,” Chance groggily whipped around, squinting as his eyes adjusted, “holy shit it’s daytime.”

“And we’re still here.” you weakly laughed as you surreptitiously buttoned back up and shimmied your skirt back down. Amusingly, Chance seemed to have already slipped himself back into his suit pants at some point, either just as he woke up or – even more amusingly – some time while you both slept.

“Oh come on,” Chance groaned as he sat up, apparently more from his sore limbs than your fretting, “this isn’t Cinderella and you’re not a pumpkin. You weren’t going to suddenly disappear or change because the sun came up.”

“Fine,” you relented, “so about that ride. I’m guessing you still want to give me a ride home?”

“Of course.” Chance nodded ardently as he buttoned his own shirt back up. “Just let me get out for a second so I can get resituated. Do you see my shoes? I guess they came off last night.”

“I see them here,” you noted, reaching into the footwell and grabbing them, “do you see my… my, er–”

“These?” Chance asked as he popped the front door open and leaned past the passenger seat to retrieve your panties off the floor. You were both markedly more shy now, as if you hadn’t just spent the night together. Chance almost couldn’t keep a straight face as he handed you the rumpled garment so you could try to put them back on as gracefully as you could manage. “For both our sakes,” he finally began again, “and I’m not just trying to make you stay out with me any longer than you already have, but would a cup of coffee be prudent before I finally take you back to your place?”

“Yes please.” you moaned as you finally hobbled out of the car, grappling your own shoes into your hands so you could brace yourself against the Lexus and pull them back on. “A cup of coffee is exactly what I need to put my head on straight and–”

You paused, suddenly frantic.

“What– Hey!” Chance asked curiously, before being startled with his own suit jacket being lobbed at him from your side of the car. He flustered for a moment as he pulled his jacket back on and smoothed it out. “What?” he repeated.

“It’s the cafe,” you excitedly explained as you dove into the car to look for your purse, “we parked behind the cafe and didn’t even know it. I keep a spare set of keys in my locker and now I don’t need to ask my super to let me into my own apartment.”

“... That’s great!” Chance nodded enthusiastically as he finally caught up to what you were saying. He followed hot on your heels as you trotted around to the front of the cafe, and you tugged on his hand when he nearly kept jogging after you stopped. “You still have my wallet–”

“It’s fine, I got it,” you grinned as you plucked a bill out of your shirt, “I got a pretty good tip yesterday.”

“Must‘ve been a good cup of coffee.” Chance smiled as he took the bill from you. “Anything you want?”

“Whatever you’re having.” You quickly replied as you ducked into the back of the cafe, dodging the line for the to-go counter as well as the line to be seated for brunch. If no one saw you, you could make it out without being roped into an afternoon shift. 

You lunged for your locker, almost sure that there was a chance your spare keys weren’t going to be there until you held them in your hands. The combo for your lock was finicky this morning, which wasn’t helping. You paused when you thought you heard someone running to the back. Thankfully, the footsteps led away towards the bathrooms and you quickly tried your combo again before wrenching open your locker. Finally, the payload. You preciously held your keys in your palms before you whipped them into your bag and grabbed your spare hoodie for good measure, too. If you weren’t readily dressed like you were ready to work, your supervisor may not even recognize you, let alone ask you to come in for a double on Monday. 

It was still a game of evasion when you crept out of the back room, but something made you pause. Rather, it was some one . Chance looked like a deer in headlights, talking to some guy on the cafe floor. Whoever it was, he had his hands full with a carrier loaded with two drinks and a bag of pastries. He was handsome, as far as you could tell from your vantage point, and he carried himself well, impressive biceps and chest filling out his t-shirt and hoodie. This mystery man looked incredibly well-kept so early in the morning – and Chance looked like he was staring down Death. You crept around the pastry display to see if you could hear a little better, all while still hiding from your supervisor.

“Look, I’m just saying I wasn’t fair to you whatsoever,” the stranger explained to Chance, “and you can deny that, but I know for a fact that my girlfriend and I aren’t exactly together as far as work is concerned and we‘ve been pretty quiet about it, which is more than likely very misleading.”

Holy shit. Was this the assistant?

“Still!” Chance insisted. “What I did wasn’t alright, Changbin. I was treating your girlfriend like she’s just some girl, and I was completely out of line. I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who was out of line,” the stranger – Changbin, apparently – stopped him with a surprisingly authoritative raise of his hand and a light chuckle, “you were just trying to shoot your shot and I can’t really have any hard feelings about that.”

“I still want to apologize, for what it’s worth.”

“And I appreciate that,” Changbin nodded, “but you should probably worry more about apologizing to that girl you were with if you haven’t already. I’ll see you around, okay?”

Changbin managed to heartily clap Chance on the shoulder, even with a lofty bag of pastries in his hand, before he took off, chipperly walking across the street to another surprisingly nice car. Meanwhile, Chance sighed hard where he was still glued to the spot, hands still firmly shoved in the pockets of his suit until you finally came up to him in the lobby.

“Was that–?”

“The assistant?” Chance groaned frantically. “Yes.”

“You did good, though,” you assured him.

“Did I, though?” he neurotically wondered aloud. “And he’s right, I’m not even nearly done apologizing for being such an ass last night–”

“Two iced Americanos to go!” one of your coworkers announced behind the counter. Chance groaned and turned towards the counter, reaching for the drinks and jumping as another man reached for the same. The two locked eyes.

“Minho!” Chance gasped before taking a step back.

“Seungmin?!” This new stranger reeled as he yanked out his headphones. Seungmin? You stared in bewilderment as the two sized each other up. Neither, admittedly, were in nearly as good of shape as Changbin was after their night at the gallery. Chance was more than likely a sight to be sure, still in last night’s rumpled suit, but Minho got off only somewhat better. Dressed casually in sweats and a hoodie, Minho’s outfit didn’t hide his ruffled hair and the love bites dotting his neck. Really, the hoodie Chance’s coworker was wearing was zipped just low enough over just enough bare chest to convince you there was a fair bet Minho wasn’t even wearing a t-shirt underneath. Clearly, Changbin won the award for Most Graceful Morning After. “Listen here, you little shit,” Minho laughed crazedly with an accusing finger shoved into Chance’s chest, “after what you pulled last night I have half a mind to tell Chan just what kind of–”

“Nope! No!” Chance shushed him with a raised hand. “Me first, okay? I’m sorry.”

Minho crossed his arms across his chest. Underneath that rough morning Minho was wearing, he was actually a bit striking, with his serious brows and nice nose. “Really. You’re sorry.” It wasn’t a question from Minho; it was a challenge.

“Two more iced Americanos to go.” your coworker squeaked. The two of you locked eyes as you snuck forward to grab them. You raised a finger to your lips and she rigidly nodded, agreeing you needed to get out while you still could.

“Correct! Yes, I’m honestly sorry.” It was Chance’s turn to enthusiastically poke a finger into Minho’s exposed chest. This was somehow more like watching an argument than an apology. You suddenly wondered if this was just how business was done at Chance’s office. “I was a dick. I was an inconsiderate asshole. No one deserves what I did last night. I was out of line, and if you’d give me a chance then I’ll explain everything and more.”

Minho seemed stymied by this, apparently still riding off his grudge. “Say when and where.” he warily countered.

“Give me your lunch hour on Monday, okay?” Chance assured him before he thumbed back in your direction. You nearly melted into the floor, suddenly feeling way more exposed than you even did in the parking lot the previous night. “I would today,” Chance explained, “but I’m sort of–”

Minho suddenly shifted his gaze to you now and you nearly jumped behind Chance. “She’s with you? Shit, I’m sorry. I’m Minho.” he greeted, reaching past Chance and offering you a hand. You meekly shook it, feeling bizarrely awkward in this situation. Maybe it was him, or maybe it was the drinks in your hands, but you were freezing. Minho turned back to Chance. “It’s seven in the morning, you know that, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Chance laughed humbly, almost unbelieving himself, “I wanted to give her a ride home.”

Minho’s stare darted between the two of you again, almost assessing the situation before he nodded and swooped up his coffees in a drink carrier. “Okay. Good deal,” he said with an amicable nod. “We’ll talk on Monday.”

And with that, Minho breezed out the door and down the sidewalk, taking the chill with him. You felt yourself relax, fully unclenching your jaw once the door shut again, and apparently Chance did, too, as you shared a glance and a chuckle. “Can we please go now?” he desperately pleaded.

“I thought you’d never ask.” you groaned with relief before quietly jogging out the door and back out to the parking lot. Chance grabbed a drink out of your hands and leaned back against the hood of the car as he took a sip.

“So…” he dazedly began, staring at the concrete and mouthing his straw, “I got about half my apologizing done, and it’s apparently barely 7:00 AM.”

“So… Seungmin, huh?” you asked lightly, changing the subject. If he did it and felt sure about it, then there was no reason for him to dwell on it.

“Oh, come on,” Chance – Seungmin – chuckled, “I thought we were just playing around last night! You heard my name a ton before this morning.”

Had you? You thought about that, and now that you did… maybe Seungmin was right. Chan might’ve said it when you were out together, and you must‘ve heard it back at the police station , if not when you were talking to the officers then surely when they called Chan, or even when you handled Seungmin’s paperwork. You couldn’t be sure, but you were convinced you somehow were just having fun playing this game all night and didn’t even register any time his name came up in the first place.

“Well then, you can’t say you don’t know mine either,” you weakly laughed.

“Actually...” Chance – Seungmin! – stroked his chin.

“Oh come on,” you sighed now, “the police station?”

“They questioned us separately,” Seungmin recalled, “and you filled out some paperwork but I never saw it.”

“Right,” you nodded, “but what about just now? In Lovely Cup?”

“You were hiding from everyone,” he shrugged helplessly, “and I don’t blame you.”

“So you still don’t know my name,” you concluded.

“I guess not.” Seungmin smirked thoughtfully. “Can I take you out and maybe I can learn it?”

You considered this while you sipped at your drink, but it felt ridiculous to do even that. If you were being honest with yourself, you were pretty impressed with Seungmin’s move back in the cafe, owning up to his mistakes and trying to make amends. And, as you already knew, you had a dreadfully exciting time with him the previous night. Now, in the daytime, Seungmin was equally as handsome as he was at night, and you were overcome with startlingly domestic and attractive thoughts like going on dates or meeting his dog.

Seungmin was still looking at you expectantly when your phone rang inside your purse. Your eyes widened.

“Who is it?” Seungmin asked.

“It’s my boss!” You all but shrieked.

“Answer it!” Seungmin implored.

You stared, unsure but doing it anyway and answering your phone.

“Hey, did I just see you in the lobby?”

“Maybe,” you tepidly quipped, “why?”

“We only got maybe ¾’s of the order this morning, I have a call-out this afternoon, and I got a trainee on closing shift. How are you doing on overtime? Maybe you can–”

“Tell her you’re busy.” Seungmin leaned forward and whispered.

“Doing what?!” you mouthed at him.

“Tell her you have a date.”

“I have a date?” you asked, all before you realized you asked out loud.

“What? You have a date?”

“I, er, yes! I have a date.” you decided with an affirmative nod. “Sorry.”

“What? No, don’t be sorry. Have fun!”

The call cut out.

“And the world didn’t burn down.” Seungmin beamed. He’d already finished his coffee.

“So do I really have a date?”

“You could say that,” Seungmin shrugged, “I have a really full day ahead of me. I need more coffee, and maybe breakfast, and I need to take my dog for a walk, and we’ll need a change of clothes first, and probably a shower before that – and wouldn’t you know it? I’m missing my phone, wallet, and a pretty hefty tip I was going to leave for coffee last night.”

“Must have been a good cup of coffee.” you grinned as Seungmin opened the passenger door for you for a third time now. His smile only got bigger as you walked up, closing the few steps between you and putting your purse in the car before you got in.

“The coffee was alright,” Seungmin nodded thoughtfully, “but the waitress was amazing.”

Notes:

Originally posted as a mystery member fic to kisskissbanggang.tumblr.com! 💕