Requested by TheOneIAm:

The heavy bass music coming from his headphones seems to come to a stop when he sees him. He’s outside the floor-to-ceiling double-glass windows of some store – closed at this hour of the morning. There’s a holey red and black striped jumper just hanging off his shoulders, exposing collarbones and slender shoulders, and skin-tight denim that clads his legs, muscles powerfully contracting as he moves.

He's dancing, to a beat that bleeds out of the earbuds hooked around his neck – one that even though Namjoon can’t hear, he can feel, can see in the rhythm of the mystery boy’s movements. The beat, that’s initially hard and fast (Namjoon can tell by the speed of the mystery boy’s movements and the sharp angles with which he positions himself) slows down, becoming something sultry and downright dirty, if the way the mystery boy is rolling his hips, dissolving all the sharp angles in a mess of curves and smooth edges, is any indication, and Namjoon feels his throat run dry.

Then the boy catches Namjoon staring, executes something between a body roll and a of the hips and winks, causing him to swallow tightly, face flushing from neck up.