The deep bass of the music blasting through the speakers sends ripples through the cocktail resting on the bar in front of him while strobe lights flash from the stage, illuminating half-dressed, writhing bodies. Youngjae hasn’t even been inside the club for twenty minutes, but he’s already in danger of his senses going numb.

“Why are we here again?!” he leans over towards Jinyoung, shouting at the top of his voice to be heard over the music. The older man turns to him with glassy eyes and a wide grin, slapping him gleefully on the arm.

“Because you’re finally an adult now and this is a rite of passage!” Jinyoung lifts the electric blue drink up to Youngjae’s lips. “Now, drink up and let loose!” Youngjae has no choice but to swallow the drink in gulps so it doesn’t end up splashing down the front of his shirt.

“I still say we should’ve gone to a norebang,” Jaebum drawls around his glass of water, his voice barely audible above the pulsing EDM.

“Nonsense, we go there all the time. Besides, my birthday present isn’t the kind you can get at a norebang,” Jinyoung says with a leer, clapping the birthday boy on the back and lifting another drink to his lips in quick succession. Youngjae feels his brain rattle around in his head as heat spreads through his body and his knees get weaker.

“Hey, slow down with the drinks. You don’t want him to pass out when he’s barely gotten through the door,” Jaebum says warningly as he notices Jinyoung signalling to the bartender for another drink. Youngjae flashes the swirling images of Jaebum a grateful smile as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This one is for me, actually,” Jinyoung says primly, holding the neon pink cocktail protectively at this chest. Jaebum’s irises disappear in an eye roll. Before he can say anything, the club goes dark and silent for the first time since the three of them have been inside it.

“What’s happening?” Youngjae breathes, his hands groping in the darkness to find his hyungs.

“Take a look,” Jinyoung says, his cold fingers gripping Youngjae’s chin and turning his face towards the stage.

Youngjae’s eyes squint close as the white lights flare brilliantly. As they dim, he notices that all the other dancers have exited the stage, save one that wasn’t there before, now accompanied by a wooden chair. The dancer is wearing nothing but a gorilla mask and a black thong covered in silver rhinestones and sequins. The music starts playing again, a slower R&B tune this time, and the dancer’s hips start to swivel and with the beat, his oiled muscles rippling obscenely.

“Who’s that?” Youngjae breathes, his eyes as wide as saucers as they follow the pelvic s that only make the bejewelled thong sparkle and shine more under the white lights.

“He goes by the name Wang Kong,” Jinyoung replies. Jaebum scoffs and shakes his head. “And he, my young friend, is your birthday present.”

“Ah,” Youngjae nods absently, the words passing right through his ears.

A jolt of heat runs down his spine and spreads through his blood as the dancer throws himself on the floor and starts writhing his way across the stage. It’s not until he’s making his way down the stairs and gyrating his hips with a finger pointed at Youngjae that he understands Jinyoung’s words.

“Wait, what?!” Youngjae cries out, jumping as soft, warm hands grab him by the shoulders and pulls him back in the direction of the stage. Between his weak knees and Jinyoung pushing him from behind, Youngjae is powerless to resist, and he finds himself seated in the chair.

The dancer leans in until Youngjae can see his chocolate brown eyes from behind the mask. “Happy birthday, Choi Youngjae,” he purrs. Youngjae jerks in his seat as a quick kiss is pressed to his lips and he freezes as the dancer runs his index finger down from his lips, right down the centre of his chest, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. “Try not to make a mess,” he says lowly, his lips curling into a smirk. Youngjae gulps mutely, his throat – and his jeans – constricting.

The lights go out again as the music changes; it’s still an R&B song, but with a quicker tempo. Soft, purple lights glow from the sides of the stage as the dancer holds by the shoulders again and starts grinding in his lap. Youngjae would scream or moan or make any kind of noise if he could find the breath for it.

“Hold on tight,” the dancer grins, his movements getting wilder and wilder as the music buildings up to a crescendo.

As heat pools in Youngjae’s groin and his eyeballs spin in his head, Youngjae distantly fears that he really will end up having to change his underwear. Luckily, the music cuts out before that can happen, the dancer’s movements coming to a halt as he leans over Youngjae, his hot breath slightly shifting Youngjae’s eyelashes.

“Congratulations, you are a tougher nut to crack than I first imagined,” he grins, flashing his large, white teeth. The dancer plants another kiss on his lips before the lights cut out again and the patrons of the cub applaud. “Come on,” the dancer pulls Youngjae to his feet, “I live off exhibition, but I doubt that you want to walk off stage with everyone eyeing your package.” Youngjae jumps as the dancer gives the bulge in his jeans a pointed squeeze.

“A-Ah, right, th-thank you,” Youngjae sputters, his hands flying down to cup the front of his pants.

The dancer giggles, as he pulls Youngjae backstage. “You know, I see a lot of sleaze balls in my profession, but I hardly ever get someone as cute as you. If I hadn’t seen your ID before I accepted this request, I’d question if you were even old enough to be here,” he chuckles.

If even half of Youngjae’s brain cells were still functioning, he’d try to say something flirty and cool like ‘You’re pretty cute yourself. Mind if I check your ID?’, but his tongue is all but cemented to the roof of his mouth, so he just nods and mumbles a thanks as he heads back out to the main room.

“Hey, Younjgae,” the dancer calls out. Youngjae turns around to face him right as he lifts his mask. “Feel free to come back some other time. We can pretend it’s your birthday,” he says with a wink. Heat floods Youngjae’s face.

“Uh, right, sure,” he nods, shuffling to the exit with his eyes locked on the dancer’s handsome face.

“Jackson,” the dancer flashes a peace sign.

“Jackson,” Youngjae smiles tentatively. “I’ll–” His words are cut off as his shoulder crashes into the doorframe. “Bye!” He turns and dashes out the door, Jackson’s giggling sending him off.

“So, how was it? Am I not the best hyung ever, or what?” Jinyoung throws an arm around Youngjae’s shoulders as soon as he finds them again.

“I did enjoy it. Um, maybe we could come back again?” Jaebum’s groans are muted by the music and Jinyoung’s cheering.

“I guess I know what we’re doing for my birthday,” Jinyoung grins as he pushes a drink into Youngjae’s hand. Youngjae accepts it, his eyes briefly flitting to the stage before he gulps it down.