Kai blinks at the boy next to him, elated at his epiphany, but nervous as well, anxiety present in the sharp bite of teeth on lower lip as Kai worries (What if Sehun doesn’t like him back?), oblivious to the fact that Sehun has asked him a question twice now.

            “Kai!” Sehun says, raising his voice a little, and the older boy jumps, shaken from his thoughts.

            “Sorry,” Kai says, cursing himself for the way his voice shakes a little. “What’d you say?”

            “Are we going inside?” Sehun asks, pointing with his free hand at the door Yixing has long gone through. He must be wondering why his friends haven’t followed him.

            “Oh, yeah, sorry,” Kai says, apologizing again. And then he’s pulling Sehun behind him, hyperaware of the feeling of Sehun’s hand still in his, the press of Sehun’s fingers sending icy-hot sparks up Kai’s arm.

            Inside, they pass a large, burly-looking man who’s standing just inside the door.

            “He looks like a bouncer,” Kai thinks, taking in bracelets with metal studs stacked up the man’s wrists, and the tattoos that cover every inch of bare skin, colors swirling into each other.

            Kai is sure Sehun wants to take a picture right now, can tell by the way Sehun’s eyes travel over the man, curious and fleeting, but intrigued. But Yixing had told him that he had better leave his camera at Yixing’s apartment because it would probably be broken or stolen in the place they were going.

            As a result, Sehun had hurried to place his camera back in his bag before Yixing had dragged him away to find him some different clothes. Kai had also been given different clothes, Yixing explaining that sweatpants and a t-shirt weren’t going to cut it.

            Which is why Kai is currently clad in black skinny jeans, a white tank top with silver sequins, and black boots, the new outfit underneath his coat and scarf and gloves.

            He hadn’t seen what Yixing had given Sehun because the younger boy had come out of the bathroom already wearing his coat. All Kai could tell was that he had on white skinny jeans that made his already vibrant hair stand out even more.

            It all makes sense now. The clothes, the alleyway, the bouncer. Yixing has brought them to a night club.

            “Your friend went that way,” the bouncer says, pointing a finger down the hall.

            Kai can just make out the distant sound of a bass beat, the rhythm reverberating through the floor and into his shoes.

            Sehun still hasn’t let go of his hand.

            “Come on,” Kai says, tugging gently, and Sehun follows, still looking the slightest bit nervous, but curious as well.

            The two reach a door at the end of the hall, and Kai pushes it open without hesitation, the sound of music having grown steadily louder the closer they got.

            Now the music is a roar, pouring through the open door as the two boys take in the scene before them.

            “Woah,” Kai hears Sehun mutter beside him, and “woah” is right.

            The entire place is a chaotic mess of colors and lights and music, everything bleeding into everything else, like some kind of crazy piece of art.

            Glass windows make up the other three walls, looking out onto the street outside, and Kai realizes that they are basically sitting in the lap of Times Square. The giant, pixelated screens outside move with advertisements, the thirst for materialism always present.

            Lights, hot pinks, icy blues, acid greens, glittering golds, all hang from the ceiling and project onto the glass windows, painting arms and cheeks and bared stomachs with shimmering piercings.

            Sehun is really regretting leaving his camera at Yixing’s apartment, but he’s not sure how he would have taken photos anyway with Kai’s hand still holding his tightly, Sehun hoping that Kai can’t feel the crazy beat of his pulse through his wrist.

            Because Sehun wasn’t thinking when he let Kai grab his hand earlier. He had just been anxious about following Yixing, not used to going out with friends. He was sure Yixing wouldn’t take them somewhere dangerous, but it still made him nervous, especially with Kai behind him, especially because Sehun couldn’t stop thinking about Kai, and he hated it.

            It was beginning to wear on him, the constant thoughts of Kai filling his head when he was doing anything really.

Sehun could be taking notes on the most boring subject in one of his classes, and bam, he would be thinking about how Kai had flicked that spoonful of strawberry ice cream at Sehun’s face the other day, laughing when the sweet, cold glob had landed on Sehun’s cheek, dripping down onto his shirt. Sehun had retaliated by chucking his spoon at Kai, and it had hit him in the shoulder, Kai’s laughter replaced with an exclamation of surprise, Yixing telling the two to stop acting like restless children.

So Sehun had started avoiding Kai, partly because of the dip his stomach takes whenever their hands brush, but also because Kai was now a constant in his thoughts.

But he had let Kai grab his hand and had let him keep it earlier because it gave him some comfort, having Kai there, beside him, as they had walked into what Sehun now knows is a night club.

Kai is the confident one, whereas Sehun is the quiet one. Kai loves being around people, eyes constantly searching for stories, but Sehun likes to capture stories from behind his camera, hidden behind the lens and the film and the developer. Kai contains chaos, and Sehun absorbs calm.

They are the complete opposite, and, yet, Sehun has seen similarities. They both struggle with something, and that knowledge makes Sehun feel a little less alone, especially when he’s lying by himself in his bed at night, staring out the window and thinking of home.

So now they’re here, at the top of the steps leading down onto a huge dance floor, crowded with people, laughing, shouting over the noise, moving their bodies to the beat. A DJ sits behind his turntable at the front of the room, back to the amazing scenery outside, spinning disks, headphones around his neck.

Sehun is so caught up in everything, the noise, the lights, the people, that he doesn’t notice Yixing until the older boy is right beside them.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he says, raising his voice to be heard.

Kai looks at his friend in admiration. “How did you find this place Xing?” he asks, shifting a little and tightening his grip on Sehun’s hand.

Yixing grins, the lights flashing off of the gold sequins scattered over his dark blue tank shirt, the material long enough to reach mid-thigh, covering his black leather pants. “I performed here a few times when I first came to New York. I can get in for free sometimes, since they know me here. I just hadn’t decided to show it to you until now.”

Kai shakes his head. “It’s amazing,” he says, leaning past Sehun so that Yixing can hear him, and Sehun in a breath, inhaling cologne and Kai, and feeling a little dizzy when Kai’s chest presses into the side of his arm.

Yixing says something that Sehun doesn’t catch, and then he’s taking Sehun’s coat and scarf, and moving away, disappearing into the crowd, and Sehun swallows because Kai is still really close, and it’s doing things to Sehun’s head, making him feel even more dizzy.

And he’s not sure what Kai is going to think of the outfit that Yixing had picked out for him earlier, the white jeans clinging to his calves and thighs, black tank top hanging off of his shoulders, baring his collarbones, hot pink sequins matching the pink in his hair. A pair of black, short boots completes the outfit, and Sehun flushes when he catches Kai’s eyes drinking in the clothes.

“What did he say?” Sehun asks, to distract himself, and Kai laughs, breath fluttering against Sehun’s cheek.

“He said to not even think about visiting the bar over there, or he would personally make sure that neither of us would ever get into another night club in New York again,” Kai says, eyes meeting Sehun’s.

“I don