They haven’t even kissed yet, but Youngbae is still left breathless.

How it is that he came to a club on a whim and several pleas from a persistent best friend, and he’s now found himself here, inches away from a beautiful stranger, he’ll never know. But this is too lucky. Too reckless. Two things Youngbae has never been that causes him to question all this over and over.

Youngbae’s back is flush against the cold brick wall of the club he and the stranger were in just moments ago. Toned, tattooed arms are on either side of Youngbae’s head. Body heat and cologne surrounds Youngbae in the most intoxicating way. The stranger shifts so his thigh is pressed between Youngbae’s legs and it’s everything Youngbae can do not to moan out loud. He manages a sharp inhale through gritted teeth instead. One look in this man’s eyes makes his already frantic heart pound more rapidly. The man’s smoldering chestnut orbs on him, taking Youngbae in like he’s a natural wonder of the world. Even when it’s too intense and Youngbae just can’t hold his gaze, he can still feel those eyes on him. Youngbae doesn’t recall being so interesting to look at, but his thoughts halt when the man moves one hand down and latches it onto Youngbae’s waist. Only then does he have the courage to look back up.

The reds and blues of the dance floor strobe lights were enough to make this man look —skin glistening, body lithe and carefree. But now, now he looks unreal. Almost intangible, that is, if Youngbae wasn’t currently holed up in an alley with him. The yellow light from a streetlamp overhead shines down on this man and highlights his small, round nose, accentuates his full lips like he’s pouting, gives his eyes a golden tint that makes his gaze almost look animalistic. Like Youngbae is prey waiting to be devoured. And if by that mouth, then Youngbae would do anything to forgo the chase and give the man what he wants.

Except Youngbae is frozen in place.

The cool stones on his back do nothing to stop his brain from overheating, too busy calculating what the ‘right’ thing to do is, where the ‘right’ places to put his hands are. Two steps forward, three steps back. Youngbae is lost in his thoughts. Somehow this stranger can sense it, grasping one of Youngbae’s hands and guiding it to rest on the small of his back.

“Relax.” It’s the first words the man’s spoken since they met on the dance floor, and Youngbae tries to commit that voice to memory. He wants to hear more—words, laughs, moans, he wants it all.

The way the man looks at him now is less primal and more concerned, head cocked to the side so he makes eye contact with him. Of course Youngbae would ruin a moment like this by being so horribly self-doubtful.

“Sorry.” Youngbae huffs a frustrated laugh. “I usually don’t do this.”

A smirk tugs at the man’s lips and Youngbae has to try not to keep staring at them.

“Clam up like this or bring men into alleys for alone time?”

And it’s true. It was Youngbae who initiated this. A spur of the moment decision made after twenty minutes of grinding and physical lust that caused Youngbae to grab this man by the hand and lead him out somewhere with less leering eyes, knowing nothing more than how this man flirts and the way he sways his hips.

“Both,” Youngbae hesitantly admits, ducking his head. He looks up when he feels the man's thumb tracing reassuring circles on Youngbae’s hip. The man’s eyes are still playful, teeth pinning his bottom lip in amusement.

“Well, I guess I should be honored,” he finally replies after another handful of seconds of examining Youngbae’s face. Youngbae is still unsure what is so captivating to him, but can’t complain when he’s got someone exquisite to look at himself.

The small talk is cut short when Youngbae lifts his other hand before he can think it a bad idea and molds it to the side of the man’s face, fingers tracing the contour of his jaw.

This is enough for the man to bend his arm against the wall and push himself into Youngbae’s space. The heat radiating off of this man is enough to make Youngbae dizzy, the feeling of the man’s body pressed to his own sending every nerve in his body into overdrive.

The man goes one step further and nudges his nose against Youngbae’s, lips lightly brushing his as he speaks:

“So, are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Shivers go down Youngbae’s spine. One look in the man’s half-lidded eyes dissipates any desire he had to retreat inside his own head, worrying about repercussions, and for the first time in a long time he just does.

Youngbae closes the gap, claiming those smirking lips in a kiss. It’s one thing to look at those lips and predict what they’re going to feel like moving against your own. It’s another thing to actually feel it, and feel the jolt of electric current that comes from the contact. The wanton sigh the man releases has Youngbae suppressing a moan of his own, out of pleasure and also… joy? It’s a happy feeling, that Youngbae knows for sure, and this mixed with the arousal pooling in his gut make for a heady combination. When the man tips forward looking for deeper contact, grinding their hips together and flicking his tongue out to trace soft flesh, this time Youngbae's moan comes out before he can stop it, low and raw.

The sound of it sends Youngbae out of his high, and suddenly he’s hyper-aware of the fact that he really doesn’t know what to do with his limbs right now. Again, the man’s keen senses alert him to Youngbae’s hesitation, and he pulls away. Just enough so that they’re sharing the same airspace, foreheads touching, but the man can use those catlike eyes to peer into Youngbae’s.

“You’re overthinking it.” He says it more as fact than a question.

 For a moment, Youngbae prepares to counter the assumption, but the man can read him like an open book. It’s unnerving how acutely he’s honed in to Youngbae like he is, but he kind of likes it.

“…Yeah," he concedes. The night sky conceals the blush that spreads onto Youngbae’s cheeks, but he still feels the warmth of it. Or it could be from the way the man is staring so intently at him.

The man moves his hand from Youngbae’s hip up to his chest, palm flat against Youngbae’s racing heart. A quiet laugh follows.

“I don’t usually do this either, you know.”

Youngbae’s brows slam together in confusion. “What’s that?”

“Make out with men I just met.” The corners of his mouth pull, making a straight line. An indecipherable emotion that Youngbae wants to decode.

“So why… me?” He closes his eyes in immediate regret. The question has been on his mind for the last few minutes, and it was going to come out sooner or later. But why now of all times?

The man's laugh this time is louder than the first, but he doesn't laugh at Youngbae’s expense. The sound of his laugh reminds Youngbae of wind chimes: melodic and clear.

“Why not you? Or, why me for you?” Youngbae wants to answer that question at once, with at least five reasons he’s garnered in this short time, but the man continues. “Sometimes things like this just happen. The universe has a way of pulling souls closer together until they meet. And whether you actively set out to find each person you meet or not, the universe puts the opportunity in front of you. Why should we be skeptical? It's up to us in the end to do something about it.” At this point the man’s hand travels back down slowly to Youngbae’s stomach, blunt fingernails scratching through the material of Youngbae’s tank top, causing shudders to ripple down his back. Those eyes glance back up from Youngbae’s torso to his face. “Right?”

Youngbae nods his head, at the same time trying to wonder what exactly is holding him back. “Right.”

“So, what is the universe telling you to do right now?” The man’s voice is low, almost purring, making him more akin to something feline.

“It’s…” Youngbae swallows thickly, “telling me to let go. And to relax.” He matches this declaration while carding a hand through the man’s soft, slightly damp hair. The action is instinctual instead of premeditated. More than anything, it feels right.

“Okay then.” The man flashes a smile that instantly makes Youngbae go weak at the knees, and he’s never been so grateful to have this brick wall for support. But he shakes off his nerves in favor of initiating the kiss yet again, only this time, he’s bound and determined to think of nothing but finding euphoria with the beautiful man in front of him. He kisses the man, gentle at first, a “thank you” that seems out of place to vocalize in their situation, before pulling the man’s body closer to his own, earning a surprised squeak from him that makes Youngbae smile into the kiss.

Relaxing becomes an easy thing to do when the man’s tongue coaxes Youngbae’s lips open, diving in without hesitation, like they’ve done this millions of times before. It’s a strange kind of familiarity, but it’s an ease that Youngbae welcomes, matching the curiosity of the man’s tongue with his own. He drinks in the taste of tobacco and orange and a flavor that he can’t categorize, becomes addicted to it. And soon the kiss loses its form, both ever-searching, wanting more. It becomes sloppy and wet, the slick slide of their mouths turning Youngbae on more than he thought it ever would. The man rocks into Youngbae, and he fights a smug grin when he feels that he’s not the only one .

It doesn’t take long for the man to become impatient and pin Youngbae to the wall with his own body, pressing against him, sneaking in a few more rolls of those sinful hips. Youngbae counters by sliding both his hands up the man’s slender body, a dulcet moan escaping through parted lips. Youngbae takes this chance to nip at the man’s supple bottom lip, and another needy whimper is his reward. His hands find their way to the man’s face, palms resting on the sides of the man’s neck, fingers tangling themselves in the nest of black hair. The man signifies his approval in the way he swirls his tongue around Youngbae’s and the pressure his firm hands apply to Youngbae’s hips. Youngbae kind of hopes the grip will result in bruises, as some way to remind him the next day that this wasn't all a dream. Each of the man’s moans is louder than the last, muffled as they retreat into Youngbae’s mouth.

Every part of Youngbae’s body is vibrating with complete satisfaction, his heart still pounding, but feeling lighter than before. His trepidation is replaced by something full and warm, and if he wasn’t so busy conquering this y stranger’s—is he really a stranger now?—mouth, he’d kick his own for even letting his mind get so far as to nearly psyche him out. He didn’t realize how badly he’d needed this, in more ways than one.  Didn’t know how much he needed to give into the spontaneous and haphazard. His desire for control was probably the downfall of a few relationships, if he’s being honest with himself, but his desire now is languidly exploring his mouth.

The need for oxygen burns in their lungs and the two reluctantly part, but not before Youngbae laps at the man's lips with his tongue, and likewise the man’s teeth gently sink down on Youngbae’s. They’re both panting, shamelessly and without filter. They stare at each other, noses nudging, exchanging lazy smiles. The man moves his arms to circle around Youngbae’s neck, curious fingers playing the hairs at the nape of his neck. Youngbae chuckles as he comes back down to reality, trying to comprehend what has transpired. He doesn’t question it though, as he dips down to capture those lips again in a soft kiss. All he knows now is that he doesn’t want to let this man be just some meaningless fling.

Until it occurs to Youngbae that that really is all he knows.

“This is—” the sheer ludicrousness of the night’s events really is catching up with him, as he turns his head away to laugh again, “Sorry, I just realized… I don’t even know your name.”

The man grins back at him. The giggles he was trying to stifle come out in flutters when he replies, “Oh wow. We did this a little backwards, huh?” He rests his head on Youngbae’s shoulder for a brief moment to collect himself. “My name is Jiyong.”

Jiyong. The name suits him, and Youngbae likens it to Jiyong’s laughter, so full of mirth and clarity. “I'm Youngbae. It's nice to meet you, Jiyong.” He can’t help but say his name; he’s dying to know what it sounds like on his tongue. 

“You too, Youngbae.” Jiyong says it shyly, confident bravado melted.

The way Jiyong says Youngbae's name, he swears he senses sincerity in it. They stay embraced, engrossed in their own world in a comfortable silence. But it’s only a matter of time before Youngbae’s brain has to chime in with pestering thoughts. This one stays stuck in the back of his throat for a minute, uncertain of how to say it. Taking a deep breath, he moves his hands down from Jiyong’s face, sliding them under Jiyong’s shirt to graze his sides. Under Youngbae’s touch, he can feel the goosebumps form atop of velvet skin, and tries to smooth them down with the swipes of his fingers.

“Don’t go just yet. Please, come home with me.” The request is so fragile Youngbae has to whisper it. Before he lets every negative scenario pour in, Jiyong rests his head on Youngbae’s shoulder again, but this time, he finds a particular spot between shoulder and neck to nuzzle into, mouth grazing his skin as he answers.

“Okay.”

The smile Youngbae feels pressed against his neck in confirmation is infectious, and Youngbae smiles too. He’s starting to understand what this warm sensation lodged in his chest is, but his head is too clouded with absolute bliss to dwell. There will be time for that, Youngbae hopes, should the universe allow it.

A/N: This is my way of saying 1) I’m back, 2) I’m forcing myself to write because waiting for inspiration isn’t working… clearly, and 3) I’m working on other stuff some of you have been patiently waiting for. For that latter part, I’m truly grateful <3

Oh, and happy early birthday to the one and only Taeyang, Dong Youngbae! :)