“I’m flirting with you.”

“Yeah, I know. And I’m not interested.”

Minho was used to hearing these kinds of conversations. Three nights a week he worked behind the counter at one of the busiest underground bars in the city district. Men and women alike made moves on people who weren’t interested, said and did things that made everyone around them uncomfortable, especially the poor soul they’d sought to get into a bed that night. Usually, someone stepped in before Minho had to, a friend of the confronted person or sometimes a complete stranger. Sometimes it took their security personnel to drag the offender out of the club. It just turned out that this time Minho was standing right there as he was making a drink for the young man who was currently being talked up by another definitely older man. If Minho was being honest, he wasn’t surprised that the young man had been targeted, he’d thought of asking him out himself, just from his features and manner alone. But it was against company policy to talk up customers so he’d kept it professional.

Pretending to still be making the drink, Minho listened carefully as the conversation began to turn sour.

“You know you should be happy I wanted to talk to you.” The man hissed, his voice easy to hear at the quieter end of the club – at least, the place furthest from the dancefloor and with less people to add to the music’s background noise.

The young man scoffed, one arm leaned on the counter as he addressed the man. “Lucky or not, that’s not for you to decide.”

In a daring move, Minho glanced up and got a look at the man who saw fit to harass a customer at his counter. He was a repeat offender it seemed, someone he’d seen in the club more than once before trying to pick up young men who fit the description of the man he talked to now. And it was no secret that young gay men had been turning up dead all over the city as of late. Somehow, even without probable cause, Minho couldn’t help but assume that this man was the fault of those crimes. How could he not? What better place to pick up a victim but in a bar where people were uninhibited and likely to want some one-on-one fun with a stranger?

Minho didn’t even think before he placed the drink on the counter in such a way that it spilled and splattered all over the young man, red and orange colouring his previously white shirt. He put on his best stunned expression as the victim looked at him with astonishment. Before the other man could say a word, his face flaring with frustration at being interrupted, Minho spoke as if he was incredibly flustered. Thank god for the acting classes he’d taken in high school. “I-I’m so sorry! I have some towel and club soda at the back if you want to use it?” He asked, hoping that the young man caught on to the protective look in his eye. That he would somehow know that he was giving him a way out.

By some miracle, the young man seemed to understand, nodding as he stepped away from the encroaching man. “Yeah that would be great thank you.”

Smiling, Minho waved him in the direction of the end of the bar. “Come this way.”

While he weaved around the other bar tenders, Minho kept an eye on the young man who followed on the other side, making sure he didn’t suddenly vanish into the crowd. Once at the end of the bar, Minho opened the small door, just big enough for a person to step through. Once the young man was in, Minho found the courage to look at the offending man, settling him with a warning stare as he closed the door and led the saved victim through another door where the staff room was.

“Oh my god that guy was a creep.” The young man hissed, his voice hitting Minho with its softness, the sound of the club drowned into a quiet muffling through the soundproof walls. “Thanks.” He said, raising his head from the state of his shirt.

“It’s nothing. What’s your name?” He asked as he grabbed some paper towel and club soda, hoping to settle the situation with casual conversation.

“Taemin.” He replied, accepting the towel and soda. “What was the deal with that guy anyway? He really didn’t want to let me go.”

“I’ve seen him in here before. He’s… very insistent.” Minho explained, hoping to lighten the severity of his concerns. “I’m sorry I had to sacrifice your shirt.”

Taemin laughed, beginning to rub the towel and soda into his shirt. “So it was on purpose.”

“I had to think fast.” Minho admitted sheepishly.

“It’s okay. I’ve had worse things spilled on my shirt while at a club. At least there was a good reason behind this.” Taemin assured him. “Besides, this shirt cost me like four bucks at Kmart.”

Minho appraised the shirt, the stunning dark grey graphics on the front and how it had no sleeves, hanging off the young male’s frame. It didn’t look like a cheap shirt, but he supposed that was the point. “No kidding…”

Looking up, Taemin grinned in response. “Well, I should get back out there. My friends are probably wondering where I went.” He explained.

“Are you… I mean will you be alright? That guy is probably still in the club.” Minho reminded him.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” Taemin said with a shake of his hand, dismissing the concern.

While Minho really wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, there was also nothing else he could do to keep the young man in the staff room. And he technically had to get back to work. “What if I stayed with you until you find your friends?” He suggested. “I don’t want to step out of boundaries here, I’m just genuinely concerned. There’s no way I can just go back to work without knowing you have company to keep you safe.”

Taemin rolled his eyes, a hand raising to his hip as he gave Minho a rather knowing look. “A knight in shining armour huh?” He commented. “Okay. Do what you want.”

Just then, the door to the staff room opened and Minho’s name was called, his manager – a tall, blonde woman with eyes perfectly lined with makeup – gaining his attention immediately. “I think I rostered too many staff tonight. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” She suggested, though Minho knew there was no chance of insisting he continue working.

The worst part of it all, was that when Taemin turned his gaze from her, giving his shirt another wipe with the towel, she shot Minho a stern look, mouthing to him that he should “go for it”.

Somehow he thought no one at his workplace knew he was gay.

Apparently he was wrong.

“That was convenient.” Taemin commented.

Minho sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tell me about it. Oh well, lemmie put my vest in my locker and I’ll walk you to your friends.”

They were out in the bustle of the club when Taemin turned to Minho, shouting over the bounding bass. “You know, you look like you could just go clubbing in what you’re wearing.” Taemin commented.

Scoffing, Minho glanced down at his crisp white button down shirt, the sleeves long and buttoned at the wrists, tucked into skin hugging black jeans with cheap black dress shoes. “Nah, I look like I’m going to a funeral or something.”

Taemin laughed, unconsciously linking his arm with Minho’s. “You should join us!” He suggested. “I mean we’ve only just started our night and I’m the only one who didn’t bring someone to dance with.”

With a shake of his head, Minho smiled. “No, no, it’s alright. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Uhm, in case you haven’t noticed, going to clubs is about intruding. I mean, you intrude on people’s personal space every second you’re in a club. Whether you mean to or not.” Taemin stated. “Anyway, I was trying to be subtle, geez.”

The statement confused Minho, tilting his head. “Subtle? About what?”

“I didn’t wanna straight out say that I’d been eyeing you since we arrived at this stupid club and I was hoping to chat you up before that creep interrupted me.” Taemin sighed as he looked away, scanning the crowd for his friends. “Okay? So, now you know.”

“Staff aren’t allowed to chat up customers. You wouldn’t have gotten far with me.” Minho explained to him.

“I’d have tried anyway.” Taemin countered dismissively before suddenly checking his phone. “Oh, they’re waiting for me outside, it’s time to check out the next club. Are you coming along or not?” Taemin asked as he stepped closer to Minho, bravely hooking a finger into a belt loop on Minho’s jeans. “Handsome knight?” He teased, grinning as Minho shook his head in astonishment.

“What are you doing?” Minho asked, frowning even though he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m flirting with you.”