Changkyun sits on the bench, staring in frustration at the instrument looming before him. His fingers ache and his head pounds. He’s been in this stupid practice room for hours, and he’s getting absolutely nowhere.

The recital’s in two months, he thinks, filling with dread. My entire scholarship depends on it… and I can’t even get these stupid hands to do what they need to!! He groans in frustration as he slams his hands down onto the black and white keys, smooshing them down to stop that unwavering, judgmental stare.

“Bravo!” a voice suddenly comments, followed by boisterous applause. Changkyun jolts in his seat, turning surprisedly at the noise. He scowls at Jooheon, one of his closest friends and biggest annoyances, and whirls back around to glare at the piano once more.

“Dude,” Jooheon sighs, his footsteps echoing in the room as he closes the distance between himself and his dongsaeng, “you’ve gotta lighten up. You’ve been in here all day, and you’re obviously getting nowhere…” He reaches out and squeezes Changkyun’s shoulders, shaking him slightly in a playful manner. “You need a break, Kkungie.”

“I need to figure out this piece,” Changkyun corrects in a low grumble. Jooheon ‘hmmphs’ under his breath, clearly not liking this answer.

“Okay, that’s it,” he says. Next thing Changkyun knows, he’s being quite literally dragged of the piano bench. He yelps at the tight, and somewhat painful, hold around his chest, and squirms to try and get free. “You’re… going… out with me… tonight,” Jooheon huffs into his ear, obviously straining under Changkyun’s weight. “You’re… gonna forget… about… that… stupid… recital. God you’re heavy dude.”

“Hyuuuung,” Changkyun whines, ignoring his own amusement at the older’s struggling. “I can’t afford to stop right now. I—Ow!” he shouts, his hyung dropping him on his without warning.

“No more arguing, Kkungie,” Jooheon orders, still heaving in breath after breath. “You’re coming to a club tonight with Minhyuk-hyung and me.”

“Because watching two of my hyungs make out under neon lights is totally my idea of fun,” he mumbles under his breath. Jooheon’s ears flare a bright red, and his eyes grow five times their normal size in embarrassment.

“You’re going,” the older merely says again, willfully ignoring the comment. “I’ve got a friend performing at a place that’s just opened tonight. He can get us in, no problem.” He kicks Changkyun lightly with his foot, as if sealing the deal. “Be ready by eight, we’ll come by to get you.” And, with that, the older turns on his heels and leaves, not even giving Changkyun a chance to argue.

That night, very much against his better judgment, Changkyun is sitting at the ready on his couch. He scrolls absentmindedly through his phone as he waits for his friends to come and get him. He’s dressed for the club just as suiting as he can get considering all the non-club-appropriate attire he owns. Skinny jeans? Check. Shoes he doesn’t care about getting doused in alcohol? Check. A top dressy yet casual enough? …Well, that’s where he had trouble. He’d ended up with a simple t-shirt, at a loss for what else he could do.

Finally, about fifteen minutes after Jooheon had told him to be ready, there’s a knock on his door. Changkyun stands with a knowing sigh, having expected for them to be late, and goes to answer. Minhyuk and Jooheon stand on the other side, beaming from ear to ear.

“Told you,” Minhyuk chuckles knowingly. He then brings up a shopping bag to be eyelevel with them and tosses it towards the maknae. Changkyun catches it with a distinct lack of deftness, and glares at him questioningly. “I knew you wouldn’t have anything to wear, so I got you something on our way.” He then shoves his way past the youngest into his apartment, pulling Jooheon after him and sitting them both down on the couch. “Go on and change. We can wait.”

Despite actually being grateful for the change of clothes, Changkyun grumbles in annoyance as he moves to comply. Minhyuk’s knowing snicker is the only sound that follows him as he shuffles away.

Changkyun reemerges a few minutes later, a skeptical frown set on his face. He pulls at the deep crimson shirt he’s donned. It’s long-sleeved, so he isn’t too sure if this is really the best thing to wear to a hot, humid building with dozens of bodies writhing against each other in a single mass.

“Won’t this be too warm?” he asks, meeting Minhyuk’s somewhat-impressed expression.

“Maybe,” Minhyuk replies with a shrug, “but that fabric will do a good job of hiding any potential sweat stains, especially with how dark it is in there.” He then springs up, the sudden movement surprising Jooheon slightly, and then marches to the door.

“To the club!” he announces, his grandiose tone bombarding his dongsaengs’ ears as he flings open the door. Changkyun shoots Jooheon a glance, asking just what the older has dragged him into. Jooheon merely chuckles, grabbing Changkyun by the wrist and pulling him along.

Changkyun hates clubs. The crappy music, the lukewarm drinks, and the humidity of the room makes him choke a little. But, this club is different. It’s smaller, for one. And the music… The music is actually good. Like, really good. The beat mixes so well with the synthesized tones, and a fierce rap accompanies the music itself. Changkyun can’t help but glance around in search for the DJ playing this great stuff.

He’s left almost breathless when he spots the gorgeous man. Sweat glistens amongst the strobe lights, the sequined shirt sparkling with every movement. Changkyun turns immediately to Jooheon, his eyes wide.

“Who’s that?” he asks, his voice lowered despite the common sense that he most certainly couldn’t be overheard by the man in question. Jooheon smirks over at his dongsaeng, a knowing light twinkling in his eyes.

“Come on, maknae,” he merely says, slinging an arm over the younger boy’s shoulders. “I’ll introduce you two later. For now, let’s dance.”

And, before the boy has a chance to fight it, both his hyungs are pulling him onto the dance floor.

Dancing is another thing Changkyun hates doing at clubs. He always feels incredibly awkward, unable to find any type of rhythm within the songs playing. However, tonight, this doesn’t seem to be the case. The EDM blaring through the building is so well-mixed, so perfectly timed, that the youngest of the trio can find the beat without a problem. He sways his hips to and fro, doing his best to push away any lingering embarrassment at his utter lack of skill.

Minhyuk pulls Jooheon close, who in turn grabs Changkyun by the hips and presses up against him. They grind together in the crowd, drawing many an eye from strangers. The maknae ignores his burning cheeks, blaming it on the heat of the room and not the way his is currently pushed against his hyung’s. Not that this kind of dancing scene isn’t untypical when he goes with these two to a club… In fact, if he had a dime for every time he felt Jooheon’s against his , he’d be a millionaire.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t any less embarrassing, though.

After a few songs, Changkyun finally manages to pry himself away from the others with the excuse of getting a drink.

“Make sure it’s Hoseok serving you!” Minhyuk calls after him. “He’ll give you whatever you want!” Changkyun hums in acknowledgment, though the last thing he wants is alcohol. His head is already swimming from the atmosphere of the room, and a drink would only worsen his mental state.

He makes his way over to the bar, and takes a seat on the highly questionable stool. He sighs heavily and rests his forehead in a hand, the music morphing from perfection to utter trash in under a second.

They must be changing DJs, Changkyun mentally comments, closing his eyes against the trash now playing.

“Here,” Hoseok’s voice suddenly yells in his ear. Changkyun jolts, reopening his eyes in a flash. A drink is now in front of him, and the maknae frowns up at his hyung.

“I don’t want anything,” he tells the older. The black-haired man merely shrugs, wiping down the counter.

“Don’t tell me that, Kkungie,” Hoseok replies. “Tell him.” He flicks his gaze to the other end of the bar. Changkyun follows his eyes, and nearly chokes at seeing the tall, perfect man from the stage now smirking over at him, raising his glass in a silent toast with an unreadable twinkle in his eye.