A few moments of comfortable silence passed before Chanyeol spotted the man next to him fooling with his lighter, obviously trying to light his cigarette. After a few failed attempts, he groaned and chucked it to the ground, kicking dirt at it for emphasis. “Stupid thing,” he grumbled, making a mental note to pick up a new one on the way home. “Well there goes that.”

“Do you need a light?” Chanyeol piped up even though this little voice in his head told him to keep his mouth shut. He never did listen to that voice, which was probably why he found himself in half the predicaments he was in. “You smoke?” the man asked, sounding almost shocked.

“Not exactly.”