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It’s not unpleasant, is the thing.
Taeyang is simply surprised.
See, the Choi Jiung he knows is a stern student. He’s the quiet guy Taeyang was forced to sit next to after the teacher separated him from Keeho because of how much they talked, as if they were still high school students and not in their third year of college. To him, Jiung is the model student who gets good grades but never texts the class group chat back even when half of his classmates are panicking over homework. He’s a stuck-up know-it-all, he pisses Taeyang off, and just that in itself is an incredible feat.
No, really, Choi Jiung isn’t at all the kind of person Taeyang had expected to run into in a neon-lit club downtown.
Taeyang doesn’t even consider himself to be the clubbing type, he’s only ever been a couple of times when friends took him after a party. Tonight is a little different, it’s Keeho’s birthday, so Taeyang has gotten a bunch of his friends to pool money together and get a VIP booth at a club Keeho had mentioned wanting to go to because it looked fancy. The club isn’t actually much fancier than the ones they usually go to, same overpriced and overdiluted drinks, same poor air quality, but the interior design gives it a je ne sais quoi (to quote Keeho himself) and that meant everyone had to dress up for the occasion. Taeyang didn’t consider himself as fashion-forward as Keeho or Intak, but he still was pretty proud of his sheer shirt, crop top and patterned jeans combo.
There had been a bit of pre-gaming at Keeho’s place with around a third of the people who had given a positive response to the invitation, eating and playing a bunch of lighthearted drinking games, so they were all already pretty cheery and energetic when they got to the club. The booth was a surprise for Keeho and he was very proud of it and of the special birthday boy badge that granted him priority at the bar. He used it to get all of his friends a round, and who was Taeyang to refuse a free drink?
Taeyang thinks of himself as the kind of drunk that can still make rational decisions but who also gets his shyness inhibited. It’s alright by him, it makes it easier to get to the dance floor and dance with friends or cute strangers. As they came in, he greeted newcomers to the booth brightly and laughed unabashedly with them.
They’d been here for about an hour or two when Keeho grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the busiest part of the club, close to the DJ’s setup. The music was loud, bass resonating in his bones, beat making him move his body in rhythm with Keeho’s.
“Thanks for tonight!” Keeho shouted in his ear, just loud enough to be heard over a remix of the latest new hit.
“How did you know it was my idea?” Taeyang asked back with a laugh.
Keeho raised a brow before leaning in again. “Reservation under Theo? We came up with your English name together, how could I not know?”
Taeyang gave him a sarcastic ‘oops’ face before continuing to dance.
After a couple more songs, Keeho left him to get drinks. And just a minute later, their song started playing. It only took Taeyang three notes before he looked around the crowd to try to find Keeho again so they could dance and sing it together.
Although, Keeho was nowhere in sight. Who Taeyang could now see, however, was Choi Jiung. Choi Jiung, who had traded his trademark hoodie, jeans and beanie for a loose tee, red leather pants, and messily styled hair. Choi Jiung, who Taeyang had only ever seen nose buried in his class books or with headphones on to cut himself off from the noise at lunch, was on the club’s dance floor. Choi Jiung was dancing, and everything about him felt different.
And the sight isn’t unpleasant. Because Jiung can dance. It looks effortless, the way his limbs move and bend, like he isn’t just dancing to the music but living it. His moves are sharp and well-calculated. Taeyang didn’t even know Jiung could dance. Intak is part of the dance club, and he’s never mentioned Jiung.
Jiung rolls his hips in sync with the smooth instrumental, raising his arms above his head in a way that makes the edge of his shirt lift to reveal the band of his underwear and a sliver of pale skin above that. The expression on his face isn’t that far from the one he wears when he’s satisfied with his grade but whereas the latter annoys Taeyang, the confidence he can see here is nothing less than attractive. Just as Jiung’s arms go back down, running along his neck and chest, his eyes meet Taeyang’s.
Time freezes, just a little, and for a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, Taeyang thinks he sees Jiung smirk.
Then, Keeho is back and Taeyang’s attention moves to the drink he’s handed.
“Aw man,” he hears Keeho whine, “I missed our song!”
Taeyang grabs him around the shoulders. “We’ll ask that they play it again later.”
Keeho nods. Taeyang steals a glance at where Jiung was, but he doesn’t see him anymore.
They dance again, careful not to spill their sugary drinks on the pretty dresses of the girls that joined them. Taeyang almost forgets about Jiung.
When HyunA’s Lip & Hip fades out into another song, Taeyang has run out of breath and goes back to the booth. More people have arrived since then but he still finds a way to sit, squashed between Intak and Shota.
“Hope that’s soda in your glass, kid,” he tells him with a light elbow kick to his arm, “or Keeho is gonna throw a fit when he comes back.”
Shota chuckles but doesn’t reply, he simply down the rest of his glass and winks like to say ‘no one will ever know’. Taeyang laughs with him and ruffles his hair.
They fall into casual conversation with those close enough to hear them, Taeyang stealing a bunch of fries from Shota and idly swaying in rhythm with the music. Keeho appears and grabs Shota to dance with him in the middle of one of Intak’s anecdotes — although judging by the reactions the younger had been giving, he’s already heard this one more than once.
People come and go from the table regularly, whether it be to get a new drink, dance, go to the washroom, or greet someone they know.
For the first time after a while, Taeyang sees another familiar face appear.
“Jongseobie!” He calls and waves enthusiastically at their youngest friend.
Jongseob waves back as he walks over. They briefly exchange ‘how are you’s before Jongseob addresses Intak. “Look who I found!”
He steps a little to the side, and Taeyang looks at who Jongseob found.
“Jiung hyung!” Intak cheers, standing up so suddenly that he almost pushes Taeyang off the couch they’re huddled on. He waves both of them closer, inviting them to sit with them. Jongseob takes the chair, which leaves the small amount of couch left to Jiung. Next to Taeyang. Which is fine. He sits next to Jiung all the time.
Taeyang is mostly silent while the other three start chatting, catching up. From what Taeyang gathers, Intak and Jongseob’s dance club and Jiung’s dance class had decided to make both ensembles work together for the campus’ winter fair, and Jiung found himself in the same group as Taeyang’s friends. When they come back, Keeho and Shota join the conversation. As it turns out, Shota knows Jiung too because he’s taking that same dance class, and Keeho isn’t close to him but they’re comfortable with each other like they’ve talked before. Taeyang stares at the bottom of his empty glass, wondering how all his friends can know the guy he’s annoyed by without him even being aware of it.
He shakes his head and sighs. He turns to Jiung to say that he’s getting up to get another drink and notices that Jiung was already looking at him.
And here again, that fact in itself isn’t new to Taeyang. Jiung has looked at him before, when he was done with whatever exercises the professor had given them and Taeyang was still stuck on them but Jiung didn’t bother helping him. Yet, it’s different now. Maybe because they’re sitting so close to each other with their thighs pressed together, or because of the lazy smile on Jiung’s face, or because of the sound of his laughter that Taeyang had tried to ignore after Keeho made a joke, or even just because of the alcohol. Taeyang’s face feels a little warm.
As the words don’t seem to place themselves in the correct order for Taeyang to make a proper sentence, he lifts his empty glass and shakes it a little in front of Jiung’s face.
“Sorry,” Jiung says when he understands and stands up. Then, to the others, he says “I’m gonna get something to drink.”
Taeyang curses internally and makes his way to the bar without looking behind him, hoping Jiung didn’t mean he was going with Taeyang. Except when he makes it to the bar, Jiung is helping him elbow past people hovering around even if they already have their drink.
To justify ignoring his presence, Taeyang reads the cocktail board over again. Except it doesn’t work and Jiung points at the very cocktail Taeyang already knew he was going to order.
“This one is really good,” he tells him. “That’s what I usually get.”
And while Jiung waves a bartender over, Taeyang ponders ordering something else just so it doesn’t seem like he’s following his recommendation. Another voice in him wonders how often Jiung comes here to have a usual drink but he shushes it. He decides to still order his drink, refusing to let Jiung influence his train of thought.
It’s finally their turn to order, and Taeyang makes sure to say his order before Jiung.
“Make it two,” Jiung just adds.
They wait a little more while their drinks are being made, and when it’s time to pay, Jiung presents his card between two fingers. “Both on me,” he tells the bartender as she enters the amount into the card reader.
“I can pay for my own drink,” Taeyang mumbles. Either Jiung doesn’t hear or he just doesn’t react.
They leave with their drinks in hand and go back to the booth. Intak is gone because of some dare he got in the continuation of one of their drinking games. Taeyang hasn’t been keeping track of those since he got his first drink at the club.
The seats available are still the same, so they get on the couch next to each other again. This time, it’s Jiung who’s mostly quiet, sitting back. Taeyang’s only reminder of his presence is the warmth from where their legs touch.
Taeyang’s drink is really good and he decides he made a good choice — and it was his own personal not-influenced choice. The drink is both sweet and fresh with a citrusy touch, but it’s strong, too, and Taeyang is at that point of inebriation where he doesn’t drink slowly anymore so it sends his head buzzing in a nice way as he talks and jokes around with his friends.
He’s in the middle of telling an embarrassing story about Keeho (it is his birthday after all) when Intak (who is apparently back, Taeyang isn’t sure since when) suddenly points at him with a shit-eating grin.
“Hour partner kiss!” He claims.
Taeyang frowns. “What?”
“From the games earlier! A kiss means you’re partnered up for the rest of the hour!”
The older still doesn’t follow. “I didn’t kiss anyone, what are you talking about?”
Intak then points lower, proud of himself. “Indirect kiss, from Jiung hyung’s straw.”
Taeyang looks down and… Intak saw correctly. Taeyang accidentally drank from Jiung’s glass. He didn’t realize it since it tastes the same. He doesn’t dare a glance at Jiung, just pushes his glass back towards him.
“Come on,” he rolls his eyes, but then the others seem to join in, nodding their head and following Intak’s lead when he starts chanting ‘partner kiss, partner kiss’.
“We’re already sitting next to each other!” Taeyang tries, but it’s not good enough for his friends.
“You go do something together! Go dance!”
And Taeyang is still trying to escape, but then Jiung grabs his elbow and pulls him off the couch with him.
“The hour is done in like twenty minutes, anyway,” he says nonchalantly, pulling the other with him back towards the dancing crowd while their friends hoot and whistle teasingly.
Taeyang wants to resist, but he’s had too much to drink to properly do that so he ends up at the edge of the dance floor with Jiung. And then he wants to protest that the game is childish and that he doesn’t want to dance, but a song he really likes (and can’t for the life of him remember the title of) starts playing and he forgets who he’s with for a little while.
He’s not unfamiliar with the expression ‘to get lost in the music’, and thinks that now is a prime example. Sure, Jiung annoys him, but you don’t have to like someone to be able to dance with them, especially when they’re such a good dancer and their face looks so nice up close and under the strobing lights of the club, when they rest a hand on your waist to prevent people from walking between you, when they follow the music so well and make you forget how much time it’s been since you got paired up with them by a stupid game.
Jiung said something, Taeyang realizes. He didn’t hear it, but he leans his ear towards him so he’ll repeat.
“You’re a good singer!”
Taeyang gives him a surprised expression. He often sings along to music, but he didn’t know Jiung could hear. He doesn’t get the time to find a response to the sudden compliment, though, because someone behind Jiung trips and basically empties their drink over Jiung’s back.
If Jiung hadn’t been leaning in, Taeyang would’ve been the one getting splashed. If he’d been splashed, Taeyang would have been upset and maybe given the person attitude, but Jiung? Jiung is awfully calm about it. He tells them that it’s fine as they apologize profusely.
When the person finally walks away, Jiung turns back to look at Taeyang and from the way he cocks his head, Taeyang knows that his face is saying something that his own mind hasn’t processed yet. He grabs Jiung’s wrist clumsily, pulling him towards the washroom. While they make their way through, Taeyang feels his hand slipping somewhat, but Jiung catches his hand before they can be parted.
Luckily, there’s an empty baby changing room. Which, thinking about it, makes sense, seeing as babies don’t really go to clubs. So Taeyang takes them inside. He unrolls paper towels and starts patting Jiung’s back.
Neither of them says a word, which, strangely enough, Taeyang can say that they’re used to.
Taeyang pulls Jiung’s shirt under the water, trying to wash the stickiness of it off. It makes Jiung awkwardly bend back so after scoffing at Taeyang, he pulls it out of his grasp.
“You’re going to ruin it if you keep pulling like that.”
The club’s music is muffled, the bass still loud but not enough to cover Jiung’s voice. It’s not Taeyang’s first time hearing it, and yet. It sounds nice, a little rough from having to constantly shout over the music.
“You have to rinse it out now or it’ll be hell later,” Taeyang replies with a pout. His words are a little slurred.
Jiung has that smirk on his face again, sort of satisfied, sort of like he knows something that Taeyang doesn’t.
“Fine,” he then says with a shrug.
He pulls the shirt off in one smooth motion and throws it to Taeyang, who barely catches it in his surprise. Then he frowns and throws it back to Jiung.
“It’s your shirt!” He protests.
Jiung pauses for a moment then he says again: “Fine.”
So he walks to the sink, but instead of moving around Taeyang, he makes him walk backward until Taeyang’s back hit the edge of the sink, crowding against him, their chests almost touching. He reaches around with his arms to put his shirt under the water.
Taeyang has his arms in the air, he’s standing on the tip of his feet and holding his breath.
“Y-you…”
“I’m washing my shirt, as you said I should.”
Taeyang groans in frustration. He lowers his arms quickly, making Jiung drop his shirt in the sink and catch himself to rest his hands on the edge on either side of Taeyang’s waist.
“You’re so annoying,” Taeyang mutters.
Jiung hums.
“Everything about you pisses me off,” Taeyang continues.
Jiung hums again, cocking his head to the side again, a smile on his lips. Fuck, Taeyang just looked at his lips.
“Insufferable,” Taeyang says finally.
Jiung snickers. “You want to kiss me so bad it makes you stupid.”
At that, Taeyang opens and closes his mouth like a fish, feeling his face grow even hotter.
Jiung leans even closer now, and they’re breathing the same air. “You can,” he adds.
And because Jiung isn’t completely wrong, it does make Taeyang stupid, he kisses Jiung. For the act he just pulled, Jiung is strangely surprised and lets out what Taeyang can only qualify as a squeak.
It isn’t much of a kiss, and Taeyang pulls back immediately, staring up at Jiung, almost expecting him to laugh a him. But Jiung smiles sweetly and his hands find purpose on Taeyang’s waist, making him stand straighter so they’re the same height again, soon leaning back in and kissing Taeyang.
And Taeyang must really be stupid because he feels a sense of relief, like he’d been waiting for this. He really hadn’t, the still sober part of him claims, but maybe he should have been because Hell if it doesn’t feel heavenly.
Jiung kisses him slow and smooth. He pushes but also pulls, both keeping a balance between them and disorienting Taeyang.
When Taeyang’s hands move along Jiung’s arms towards his neck and all he feels is soft and warm skin, he remembers that Jiung’s shirt is lying in the sink behind him. So he lets his hands wander over his shoulders, the expense of his back, the side of his neck, his chest, his small waist. If the way Jiung shivers under his touch is anything to go by, he’s enjoying himself just as much as Taeyang.
Taeyang is the one to introduce tongue into their kiss and he has to be careful not to bite Jiung’s when he feels his hand slither under his top, thumb brushing his hip bone.
Kissing Choi Jiung isn’t at all like sitting next to him in class. All of Jiung’s attention is on him, on moving their lips together, on drinking in every single little noise he makes. Taeyang doesn’t mind it. He tilts his head to the side, pulling Jiung ever so closer to him to deepen the kiss. Jiung’s mouth is warm and tastes of the drink he likes, his hands are a steady presence, anchoring Taeyang to the ground.
They lose track of time and space, and when Taeyang comes to again, he’s sitting on the sink counter, his hands messing up Jiung’s hair even more as he stands between his legs, fingers digging into the muscle there.
Maybe Taeyang is sobering up, or he’s growing another conscience, but he gently pushes Jiung off of where he’s kissing his throat.
“That’s good,” he says, for a lack of better words.
Jiung hums, backing off a little with his hands still on Taeyang’s thighs. And, God, his mouth is puffy and red, Taeyang wants to kiss it more. His hair is more like a bird’s nest and Taeyang absent-mindedly cards fingers through it to make it look not as bad.
“I should find Keeho,” he says when he starts to feel embarrassed under Jiung’s gaze, “I- I have to walk home with him. He loses all sense of direction when he’s drunk.”
And when Taeyang moves to get back on his feet, Jiung lets him. He grabs his shirt and he’s putting it back on when Taeyang exits the room, giving just a small smile before he leaves to find Keeho.
Jiung touches his lips lightly and sighs.