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There's nothing quite like a respite from the high energy of a heavily populated meetup. May it be the crowds, fluorescent lights that were just barely bright enough to keep the building well lit despite the occasional flicker, or maybe even the endless sounds singing from the slot machines as yet another gambler poured more cash down the drain. It was futile, he thought. Why spend so much on something when the chance of success is slim to none? Even his current investment had more opportunities for a favorable result, even if the current circumstances made little room for him to reach his goal in a timely, and clean, manner. Despite his distaste for his "investement," the last thing he wanted was to have their blood on his hands and buried beneath his finely manicured nails. They were expensive, and not paid for out of his pocket; seriously, how foolish was the guy for dumping money onto Itrapped so willingly? Sure, Itrapped was taking advantage of the impulsiveness, but even he found himself dumbfounded by the eager-to-please nature of his thrill seeking companion.
Itrapped slumped over the cool edge of the balcony railing with a tired huff. His icy eyes stared beyond it into the sky as it purpled. It was getting late, he realized idly. The blonde threw a glance over his shoulder to peer through the slightly tinted glass in the door. He had to squint and bob and weave his vision between people to see who he was searching for – who resided several feet behind the barely ajar set of doors, under those lights that made Itrapped's head thrum in ache, chatting away with some nobody they would likely forget the name of hours later, if not much sooner. Gloved hands gripped the metal in front of him tight enough to turn his knuckles white to match the fabric encasing them as he watched.
It was easy to read Chance's body language after knowing him for awhile; the way he stood tall but not tense and unmoving read off that he was comfortable, but not too engaged. He found it amusing and confusing in equal measure how he'll give his time to people who were obviously not of any importance. Who cares about courtesy in a place filled to the brim with drunken assholes who would take advantage of anyone if the payout is enticing enough?
… Hm.
His lips pressed together tight at his own audacity. Who did he think he was? He was no more innocent than those gambling fools, using Chance for his own will. He's just as much of scum as them. Though, he wasn't nearly as unashamed of his greed. He'd be humble enough to put on a polite face for the other before he left them with nothing. That way, the damage is done after he was out of their life.
"It's not that I care for Chance," he would say to himself, turning away from the resort finally. "I just don't want to face the feelings they'd display when they find out they were being played."
He was never good at dealing with emotion. Not his own, nor anyone else's, and if Itrapped could do anything to avoid grand displays of them, he would do so in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for him, situations like that were uncomfortably frequent. Chance was someone who felt a lot, and expressed just as much if he trusted a person enough. While rare - surprising for someone so friendly - Itrapped found himself unfortunate enough to face a double edged sword; the gambler's faith in him earned him indirect access to his wealth, but he became someone that Chance believed they could lean on in turn. If Itrapped wanted to remain in Chance's good graces, it was best that he at least tried to lend his shoulder even if his head was always elsewhere every time they opened their mouth to spill whatever was in their own.
As he bitterly turned to face the outdoors once more, he chose to ignore whatever was happening indoors and, likewise, that insufferable "friend" of his. Yet despite no longer peering in, he could feel eyes on him. Before his brain could excuse the feeling, chalk it up to something like simple paranoia. The sound of the door creaking, though barely audible, breaking through the silence minutes later swiftly crushed such ideas.
Itrapped didn't need to turn to acknowledge the noise. The sharp sound of expensive shoes stepping on the deck was simple enough of a clue. There was hardly anyone with enough money to sound as luxurious as Chance. Besides Itrapped himself, of course.
He didn't acknowledge them verbally either. They obviously caught that much, so they spoke first.
"Huh." The icebreaker was simple. "So that's where you ran off to."
Chance was quick to settle beside him, leaning with their back facing the rail, his elbows casually propped just over them to steady himself; too close into Itrapped's personal space, but too far to touch. Itrapped didn't care.
"Mm. I needed some fresh air. It's far too stuffy in there, you know how it is." He was quite sure that Chance, in fact, didn't know. Ever the extrovert, being around people made them a little too energized. "And what brings you out here? Did you tire of your new friends already?"
As Itrapped's gaze swept over him, Chance's eyes widened. "New friends?" Confusion was written all over his face, though it quickly shifted into one of recognition. "Oh! Hah! So you were watching, eh?" They leaned in just slightly. "Jealous? You know you could have just joined in on the fun, Itrapped. Feeling shy?" The gambler laughed as the blonde scoffed. "I just came out to smoke... That's all."
"You're a bad liar, you know." The other fired back, tone just as flat as his expression. "You rarely smoke. What's the real reason?"
The tension in the air was subtle, but just heavy enough for Itrapped to pick up on the obvious discomfort radiating from Chance. They were hiding something, and barely even trying to hide it. Obviously, Chance came out to see him. He always knew where to find Itrapped when he escaped the crowd. But for what reason, that is what Itrapped sought to figure out - but not on his own.
"Spit it out already. What do you take me for, a mind reader?"
Chance let their head fall back. Staring into the nothingness that hung above them. Their long, gray curls drifted along the cool breeze, framing his face delicately in a way that made even Itrapped's breath hitch for a moment. It was nothing but mere aesthetic, he reasoned to himself.
"Geez, you caught me… Guess I should have expected that, huh?" Because Itrapped was his best friend. His only real friend. They didn't need to say so, Itrapped knew. They were plainly aware that he knew, too. "I'll be honest." Again, Itrapped scoffed - a silent finally befalling them - only to get out a quick 'hey!' from Chance before he continued. "I was hoping to spend more time with you today. It's the whole reason why I invited you out."
"You know I don't like all those people-"
"I'm not done." Chance quickly shot down any clap back Itrapped could possibly provide. "I should have known better. That you don't like these kinds of outings. That's my bad. Why do you let me do this? You're never afraid to stand up to me, tell me no even in the harshest ways, until it comes to hanging out. What do you want to do, Itrapped?"
Itrapped was taken aback by the shift of focus.
"I don't care what we do. I just want to be with you." Chance pushed himself out of Itrapped's bubble, returning to his original place on the balcony. He was confused. Itrapped found himself instantly missing the proximity.
The easiest answer, the one his gut answers with, was that he just wanted the money. Chance knew his greed. They didn't care. While it was true, it was but a half truth. Chance knew. Itrapped knew. Itrapped wanted Chance's time and attention. Even if the circumstances inconvienenced him, if it meant being in the company of Chance, it was worth it. It made him unsettled to recognize the fact that he was just lonely too.
He bit the inside of his cheek hard in thought. He couldn't figure out how to respond, and the way his companion was looking at him only made it even harder to make something up, to find any sort of excuse out of the situation.
"Itrapped?" Chance's voice rang through the noise in Itrapped's head. Clearly, he had been quiet for much too long.
Itrapped waved him off with a pristinely white glove. "Nothing. There's nothing I want from you, Chance."
The chance of the other just leaving it be was slim to none - and he was quick to be confirmed it was right to think so.
"You're a bad liar, Itrapped." Chance echoed Itrapped's own words. It pissed him off. "If that were true, you wouldn't be standing here. Hell, you wouldn't have agreed to come here, not with me. I bet it's not the cash either." Their head lowered, letting the molten gold hues of his iris shine barely above the edge of his shades. Itrapped didn't know why he bothered, their vision was never good. It's not like they'd see much. At least nothing worth looking at.
Itrapped could only groan. "Take me home." He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up as he rubbed his frustration in. "I want to go home, Chance."
Chance wasn't one to give up so easily. They were a stubborn thing, but he knew when to stop. Clearly, he wasn't yet done pushing Itrapped's buttons.
"Mine, or yours?"