Taeyong practically kicks the glass door open. A rush of cold December 31st air hits him as he storms onto the penthouse patio, his mesh shirt offering little protection, but between the heat of dancing in the crowd earlier and the boil of anger now pulsing through his veins, he hardly notices.

The few people who are hanging out outside are gathered by the bar at the opposite end or huddled around the spread-out patio heaters, so Taeyong doesn’t even notice the tall, dark figure hiding in the corner where the light doesn’t quite reach as he marches right up to the ledge, gripping the metal bar tight as he shouts, “!” into the busy city below.

His ex—his ing ex—really had the audacity to show up here with that twenty-year-old in tow? What the actual ?!

All Taeyong wanted was to leave the hole that was 2021 behind and start off 2022 afresh, but apparently, he couldn’t even have that.

Growling, Taeyong’s veins pop out along his knuckles as he grips the ledge tighter, channeling all his angry energy into it in a very vain attempt at shaking it, which is laughable considering the structure is all steel and concrete, and Taeyong is smaller in stature.

“Whoa!” a voice off to the side says. “You good there?”

“No!” Taeyong answers sharply, without looking over. Another wave of indignation hits him, and he growls and futilely tries to shake the ledge again.

“Well, hey now,” the voice continues. “What did that ledge ever do to you?”

“Bite me!” Taeyong snaps, glaring in the direction the voice had come from. He has to tilt his head back to meet the other’s gaze.

“I mean,” the man who owns the voice says. He steps out from the shadows, smoke-lined eyes open wide and blinking. “Usually I start the night with dinner and go back to the privacy of one of our own homes before we get into all that, but.”

Taeyong glowers harder, but the stranger just grins as though they were having a much more lighthearted conversation.

It spikes Taeyong’s anger further. “What do you want?”

“Just checking on you,” the other says. “You kinda look like you could use a friendly ear.”

“Well, you’re going about it very rudely,” Taeyong pointedly shoots back.

“I apologize,” the man says patiently, fiddling with something in his fingers. “I use humor to diffuse tension, but if I came off invalidating, then I’m sorry.”

Taeyong wants to keep up his defensiveness, but the sincerity in the man’s tone makes it hard. Despite how strongly he may feel in the moment, he knows this stranger has nothing to do with it, and it’s unfair of Taeyong to take it out on him.

Taeyong’s grip on the bar eases, and now that he’s getting an actual look at the stranger, he realizes he recognizes him. It’s the hot guy who had been working the turntables from the live band that Doyoung and Jaehyun hired for the party. He’s tall, clad in black denim, and has this slightly rugged edge about him.

Although his nerves are still shaken, shame stops Taeyong from continuing to lash out, and he lowers his gaze, now embarrassed on top of everything else.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong mumbles.

“It’s cool,” the stranger says. The thing in his fingers is a vape pen, and it lights up as he takes a hissing hit of it, exhaling a cloud of mist a moment later into the sky above that smells fruity, tropical—pineapple-mango, Taeyong would guess. “That’s definitely not the kind of you wanna keep bottled in.”

Taeyong nods, lowering his gaze to the city below, sufficiently humbled.

“You know,” the stranger continues. “I couldn’t help but notice you on the dance floor earlier.”

Taeyong lifts a brow. He had noticed him?

“You looked like you were having the time of your life… What happened?”

Taeyong closes his eyes, exhaling a breath. “My ex is here.”

“Ahhh,” the tall stranger says. “Fresh wound?”

“Kind of,” Taeyong replies. “A little over a month ago, I got off early from work and thought I’d surprise him by bringing home takeout. Except I came home to find him with some twenty-year-old bent over our kitchen counter.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong snorts. “Kinda ruined the Christmas magic this year.”

“Unfortunate.” The stranger takes another hit from his vape pen. “But understandable.”

Taeyong’s shoulders slump as he exhales another heavy breath, his gaze lifting to the evening sky. “My friends are throwing this New Year’s Eve party tonight, and everyone insisted that I come out, start the New Year off right, single and having a good time…”

His eyes lower to his mesh shirt and the glints of silver jewelry decorating his neck and wrists. He pinches the flimsy fabric, looking down at it skeptically. The garment had been a relic of his college clubbing life, and perhaps that had subconsciously been the energy he’d been trying to capture when he slipped into it tonight.

But Taeyong had been so young during those days, and now here he is nearing thirty, and suddenly, it’s catching up to him how ridiculous he must actually look. He shakes his head and stares back out to the city. “What am I doing?” he laughs humorlessly. “I’m not twenty anymore. I look like a fool.”

“No, you don’t,” the stranger says.

Taeyong snorts. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” the stranger insists. “I didn’t notice you on the dance floor for nothing.”

The corner of Taeyong’s lip twitches upward despite himself.

“Oh,” the stranger grins before breathing another hit of his vape. “There’s a hint of that smile I saw earlier.”

The grin on Taeyong’s face widens against his will, and he presses his lips together in a vain effort to suppress it. He’s sure the stranger is just being nice—he has a naturally friendly energy about him—but Taeyong will accept kindness right now regardless of intention.

“I’m Taeyong,” he says.

“Johnny,” the taller man replies, offering his free hand.

Taeyong takes it. His hand feels tiny in Johnny’s grip, which is as confident as the rest of him, and it’s like Johnny has this ability to transfer some of that confidence with the way Taeyong’s chest pulses warmly from the contact.

Letting go, Taeyong rests his hands atop the bar of the ledge much more gently, once again staring off into the city surrounding them.

“It’s not like I’m still hung up on him,” Taeyong explains. “Honestly, I realized pretty quickly what a blessing that night was in hindsight. Sometimes, you don’t notice what a bad grip something has on you until you remove it, and suddenly you can breathe easier.”

“Totally,” Johnny says. “Hearts are tricky like that. Once they attach, they have a hard time letting go, even if they’re tethering us to something that’s no longer good for us.”

Taeyong nods. Another sigh slips from him as he continues, “But it’s the principle of the matter, you know?” He looks over at the taller man. “This is my friends’ party. Not his! Doyoung never even liked him, and he knew that. And yet he’s here! Like he just purposely came to invade a space he knows should be mine and flaunt his hot young date as if I hadn’t seen enough of him on the counter, and for what?”

“Alright,” Johnny says in a decided manner. “I gotta see this sleazeball myself.”

Taeyong heaves a breath and lets go of the rail. Turning, he leads Johnny over to the penthouse’s glass walls, where the mass of guests and different colored lights carry on inside like tonight’s the last night on Earth.

He looks among the crowd a moment before he spots him. “There,” he points him out. “With the hot young thing in the blue vinyl.” He huffs, pushing out his lower lip.

“I think ‘hot’ is arguable,” Johnny snorts without missing a beat. “Young, sure, but people get so caught up in superficial details of what defines beauty that sometimes they don’t always stop and ask themselves if something actually is.”

Taeyong breathes a laugh, glancing over at Johnny. Who is this guy?

Johnny in another pineapple-mango cloud. “And you are way out of your ex’s league,” he says on the exhale, purposely blowing it the opposite direction of Taeyong even though it’s vapor not smoke.

Taeyong frowns, looking back at his ex inside. “Clearly he didn’t seem to think so.”

“I’m sure he knows so,” Johnny says. “But pulling like that is a power trip for people like him.”

“People like him?” Taeyong glances up at him again curiously.

“He’s a total ing sleaze,” Johnny mutters. “He reeks of it. Unfortunately, in the music scene, I’ve bumped into way too many of those types. They’re all the same. I can’t stand them.”

With a light laugh, Taeyong lowers his gaze. He would’ve never believed the fire in his veins that he’d stormed out with could be quelled, but Johnny easily proved him wrong, and it just makes that shame for lashing out at him twinge in his stomach. “I’m sorry again for snapping at you. And for dumping all this on you. And for acting crazy. I swear, I’m not usually like this.”

“You weren’t acting crazy,” Johnny says. He meets Taeyong’s gaze, and even though he doesn’t know him, there’s just something about his eyes and his smile that feels so honest. “You were understandably angry. Don’t ever let anyone call you crazy for the completely natural and normal human experience of emotion. Even the negative ones.”

Another breathless laugh slips from Taeyong. Seriously, who is this guy?

“So.” Johnny rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s still smiling, and Taeyong can’t help but be a little distracted by it. Johnny’s got this tall, dark, y rock star aura about him, but when he smiles, his cheeks are very circular, accented with a single indentation on one side, and while Taeyong suspects he’s closer to his age, right now he looks so much younger.

Taeyong blames the alcohol he consumed earlier for the way his heart starts beating.

Johnny looks back inside. “I think it’s obvious what we have to do.”

Taeyong’s curious eyes flit up to Johnny. “It is?”

“We’ve got…” Johnny hums, reaching into his pocket with his free hand to take out his phone, peering at the screen. “Oh, about fifteen minutes until midnight?” Dropping his phone back into his pocket, he turns his attention back to Taeyong. “My band is going back on stage to play a couple more songs to lead into the countdown, but once that countdown starts, you gotta come up on stage with me, so at midnight, I can kiss you.”

Taeyong blinks slowly. “What?”

“Everyone needs a New Year’s kiss, right?” Johnny grins with a playful lift of his brow. “And onstage, everyone at the party will see you, including your ex! And he needs to see you living your best life without a damn care about him and his date.”

Taeyong is silently grateful for the cool evening air because he’s sure his skin is already flushed pink because of it, thus concealing the heat that rises upon his face.

“But we’re strangers…” he says.

Johnny shrugs. “He doesn’t know that.”

“I—” Taeyong’s mouth hangs open, dumbfounded, but he catches himself a moment later, shaking his head and blinking up at Johnny. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yeah!” Johnny replies, cheerful and enthusiastic as though he had never been more sure of something in his life.

“Why?” Taeyong asks quietly, because although he is not complaining about the generous offer for several reasons, they are still strangers, and Johnny doesn’t owe him anything.

“Listen.” Johnny places a hand on his chest in a somewhat exaggerated display of bravado. “I consider myself a pretty decent dude, overall, but I’m also kinda petty. There are way too many sleazeballs in the world that get away with too much bull and never have to face any consequences. So if I can help knock down the ego of one a few pegs, then I consider it my civic duty done.

“Besides,” Johnny continues with a grin and a dark glint in his eyes that makes Taeyong’s throat suddenly feel dry. “Even before all this, I couldn’t help but notice how good you looked on that dance floor, and to be honest, I wanna bring that smile back, start off the New Year with a few good karma points on my side.”

Looking down at his feet, Taeyong laughs, once again grateful for the outside chill to conceal that next flush of warmth.

“So what do you say?” Johnny asks.

Taeyong looks back inside then up at Johnny again. Johnny’s a stranger, and this all feels pretty petty and very risky, but… maybe that’s what Taeyong needs. He played by the rules all last year, and look where it got him? it.

“Yeah,” Taeyong laughs. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Johnny smiles, and it’s the biggest smile Taeyong’s seen on him so far. “Great!”

The glass door next to them pushes open, and a man with shaggy auburn hair who has just as intense of a rock star appeal pops his head out. “Johnny! We’re back up!”

Johnny nods to the man then looks back down at Taeyong. “Gotta go.” He drops his vape pen in his pocket and waves as he backs up toward the door. “I’ll see you at midnight,” he adds with a wink.

Taeyong grins and waves back. His heart is racing as he watches Johnny through the glass walls make his way through the crowd and get back to the stage.

. He’s so tall and hot and Taeyong has no doubt that he could go home with anyone he wanted to tonight, so he really doesn’t understand why he’s wasting his time helping Taeyong get a petty shot back at his ex.

But he’s also not going to complain about it either.

Heading back over to the glass door, Taeyong lets himself back inside. After standing outside for so long and calming down, the outside chill had started to seep in, making the warmth from the party inside feel welcome.

“Taeyong!”

It’s his friend, Ten.

“There you are!” Ten exclaims, taking Taeyong by the shoulders. “Oh my, God. I’m so sorry! He has no business being here! I’m trying to find Doyoung and Jaehyun. We’ll get him kicked out.

Taeyong laughs with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do!” Ten snaps indignantly. “How dare he show his face here? him!”

“I don’t want him kicked out,” Taeyong explains. “I want him to stay. I’m gonna be up on that stage at midnight, and I want him to see me.”

“Wait a minute.” Ten’s grip eases up, and he leans back slightly, taking Taeyong in with a gleam of intrigue in his eye. “Why are you going to be on the stage at midnight?”

Taeyong just smiles.

Ten’s face lights up. “Oh, my ing God. Are you finally taking the low road? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“New Year, new me, right?” Taeyong shakes his head and laughs like he’s lost his mind. Maybe he has. “Don’t let him leave. Tell Doie and the others to make sure he stays.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Ten says, smirking. “I’m in full support of this. yeah, Yongie! 2022 is gonna be your year!”

Another laugh slips from Taeyong as Ten excuses himself into the crowd. He probably should not be getting this much joy out of this already, but seriously, his ex.

Taeyong stops by the bar to grab himself another drink then makes his way into the crowd gathered in front of the stage. A nice thing about his small stature is that he can slip past people rather easily, and he does so until he is front and center, just in time as the band starts playing again.

A couple of Taeyong’s friends spot him and join him while Taeyong sips from his drink and they all start moving to the beat. He looks up at Johnny. He’s like a storm up there, emphasized by the flash of lights and stage smoke. There’s a whole band playing, but it’s like Taeyong has tunnel vision only for him.

Johnny wears an intense look of concentration as he lightly bangs his head to the bass-heavy beat and expertly runs his hands all over the turntables and switches—he sure can use his hands.

But Taeyong shouldn’t think about that.

Still, as immersed as Johnny is in the music, his eyes flit up to the crowd now and again, finding Taeyong, a grin drawing across his lips, and Taeyong will blame the new alcoholic beverage in his hand for the way his pulse quickens.

Then the band’s last song ends, and the clock reads 11:59 p.m. The lead singer (the man with the auburn hair—Yuta, one of his friends told him) encourages the crowd and all the party-goers to start counting down to the New Year.

Johnny lowers his headphones down to his neck, stepping out from behind the turntables and walking up to the middle of the stage, extending a hand to Taeyong, who takes it and is pulled up with him. Taeyong sets down his drink atop one of the amps, so Johnny can take hold of both his hands.

As he gazes up at Johnny, he swears that among the din of the audience, he can hear his friends cheering and whistling for him. His face has got to be bright red with the way he’s sheepishly laughing, but Johnny is smiling down at him just as brightly, and everything feels alright.

“TEN! NINE!”

Taeyong’s heart is pounding.

“EIGHT! SEVEN!”

Johnny is so tall. His effortlessly tousled black hair frames his smoky eyes, and he really looks like a total rock star.

“SIX! FIVE!”

Yet despite his striking appearance, there’s something very soft in his gaze.

“FOUR!”

The longer Taeyong looks at him, the more he realizes that he has this gentle giant sort of appeal.

“THREE!”

His gaze is soft; his face is soft; his plush lips look especially soft.

“TWO!”

And in about two seconds, he’s going to feel them and find out for himself…

“ONE!”

Oh God, he’s really going to do this.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

Johnny’s arms are around him, pulling Taeyong right up to his chest, and he ducks down so his lips slide right up against his. Taeyong’s eyes close, head tilting back to meet his lips even more as he returns the kiss, hands gently curling atop his shoulders as he lifts slightly onto his toes.

Johnny’s lips are soft. So soft. They taste like pineapple-mango, and they’re warm. Everything about Johnny is warm. His embrace is warm, and it’s also large and strong, and Taeyong has to silently thank God for that since he’s certain that those arms are the only reason he’s standing right now, knees weak, his body ready to melt into a puddle on the stage right here in front of everyone.

Taeyong lets his lips fall open against Johnny’s, and as though they are on the same instinctual vibe, their tongues lightly but confidently swipe against each other. It feels entirely too natural for a first kiss with a stranger, not so over-the-top that it’s obviously forced but certainly by no means chaste. It’s perfect.

A roar of noise floods the penthouse. Bottles of champagne pop, plastic horns blare, noisemakers rattle, confetti bursts from the ceiling, every voice in the room cheers through the roof, the band’s drummer enthusiastically beats the bass drum in rapid succession, fireworks explode outside.

But Taeyong can’t hear any of that. It’s all dulled and muted under the beat of his own heart pounding in his chest, against the feeling of Johnny’s sweet lips and tongue and even warmer embrace.

Oh God, when was the last time he’d been kissed like this?

Has he ever been?

Johnny draws back, and Taeyong’s eyes slowly blink open. His heart is still beating so fast. He stares up at Johnny as though in a daze.

Johnny—now coated in a generous layer of confetti—looks out to the audience, grinning broadly. “Yeah, he definitely saw us. Oh my God, I think he’s storming out of here. Twenty-something doesn’t look happy. You should see them. This is great.”

But Taeyong doesn’t look. He doesn’t want to. “I don’t even care,” he says, and he means it. As he gazes up at Johnny, cheeks warm, lips still tingling, his ex’s presence and any young dates he brought with him suddenly just feel so unimportant.

Johnny returns his attention to Taeyong and smiles. They’re standing up on stage and surrounded by a whole penthouse of celebrating people at the height of their energy, yet for a moment, it feels like it’s just the two of them.

And that’s when it catches up to Taeyong. This kiss was just for show, and after tonight, he’ll probably never even see Johnny again.

But he’ll let himself feel sad about that tomorrow. Right now, he should appreciate this whatever it is for however long it’s going to last.

Johnny’s embrace relaxes, and Taeyong makes sure his feet are firmly planted on the stage before he lowers his own hands.

Looking down, Johnny reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. Unlocking it, he pulls up his contact list then offers it to Taeyong.

“Hey,” Johnny says. “Can you put your number in here?”

Taeyong blinks. “You want my number?”

“Well, yeah,” Johnny replies as though such a thing should be obvious. The tip of his tongue slips out to taste his lips, pressing them together before he grins at Taeyong with that dangerous glint in his eyes again. “That kiss was pretty sweet, and I’m kinda hoping that once we get to know each other, I can earn some more of them this year if I play my cards right.”

Ducking his head, Taeyong laughs. He takes Johnny’s phone and puts his number into it.

Ten is right. 2022 is going to be his year.

The End

Author's Notes:

Let me know what you think! ♥

Come shout at me anytime on twitter at monsterbfjohnny!

Happy New Year!