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“Youngie, I’m saying this as your boss, you look horrible. What happened?” was the first thing Wooyoung heard when he stepped in from the back door of the club.
“Well good evening to you too, Jongho. I broke up with my girlfriend.” He responded drily. After that he turned to look at his boss, Jongho.
“Why didn’t you call off? Are you sure you can do this tonight? You’ve done this for 2 years and never missed a single show.” Jongho looked like a caring father, although he was a year younger than him. When Wooyoung nodded, he continued, “Good. Do you remember the new guy, Mountain? He’s coming tonight, he does a set before you and maybe some more.”
Mountain. The guy who Wooyoung has never seen before. He had worked at the same club for 2 weeks, but on different days than Wooyoung.
“Oh, so gay days are completely for gays now?” one barista asked, putting his apron on. The name tag on the apron was upside down.
“Yeosang, Darling, your name tag is upside down. If tonight goes well, we’ll become a gay club.” Jongho answered while fixing his man’s apron.
Yeosang didn't say much. He just glanced up at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by, and soon after, he felt Jongho’s lips on the side of his neck. A small kiss. That was his sign to open the club.
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The club filled with people quite fast. Wooyoung peeked behind the curtains. He heard Yeosang talking to an older man. The man looked kind and definitely gay.
“What’s the setlist tonight?” that man asked.
“First Mountain, then Youngie, and the rest is still a question mark. But if you ask them nicely, and give some tips, they might end the night together.” Yeosang teased, and he was good at it. The way he talked to the customers made them fall in love with him. Some of the young women come to the club just to see Yeosang there working.
“Aah, Yeosangie, you know I love them both.” that man said playfully that made Yeosang chuckle.
Wooyoung was nervous, what if he messed up in front of the new guy, Mountain. He would probably remind him of it every day. Saying that he’s better than Wooyoung.
Then he felt a light touch on his shoulder, hand that was unfamiliar. One that he’s never felt before. But it was grounding. Like a butterfly sitting on your finger and you forget all the bad things around you. Although, when Wooyoung spun around, the one who that hand belonged to wasn't quite so butterfly-like. He was more like a bodyguard. Sexy bodyguard.
“Hey. Are you Youngie?” that man asked.
“I am. Who are you? Do I know you?” Wooyoung asked. The man looked familiar from somewhere, but he didn't know if he'd ever seen him himself.
“Mountain. You can call me San outside the club. Jongho said I need to ask for help from you. I'm getting my locker today, could you show me it?” he said and took a step back, allowing Wooyoung to lead him to the locker rooms.
Wooyoung nodded slowly. He pointed toward the narrow stairs that led down into a small, dark basement. As they walked, the silence between them grew heavy and uncomfortable. It was that specific kind of awkwardness you feel when a friend introduces you to someone new and then suddenly leaves you alone with them. Neither of them knew what to say, and the sound of their footsteps seemed too loud in the quiet hallway.
They finally reached the bottom. Wooyoung walked over to a row of metal lockers and opened one for San.
“So… is it only us working tonight?” San asked. He was trying his best to break the silence, but his voice sounded a bit shaky.
Wooyoung fidgeted with the locker door, looking nervous. “The others... well, they don’t work here anymore.” he explained. “To be honest, the club is not doing very well lately. On top of that, the only two female dancers we had just found out they are pregnant. Jongho decided he won't hire women anymore.”
Wooyoung glanced at San, hoping he wouldn't push for more details. “It’s not just because of the pregnancies.” he added quickly. “He wants this to be the only club in the area with just male dancers. He thinks it will help us stay unique and bring in more customers.”
San nodded and lowered his gaze to his shoes, hinting to Wooyoung to go outside while he changed. Wooyoung got the hint right away and went to wait outside.
Wooyoung leaned against the wall, tapping his heel rhythmically against the floor. He knew the “all-men” pivot was a risk, but he was all in it. That meant higher pay for him.
A few minutes passed before San came from the locker room, his stage outfit hugging his frame just right. He had changed the casual clothes for something more fitted, black leather pants that caught the dim light and a shirt that left little to the imagination. Wooyoung couldn't help but stare for a second too long.
"Ready?" Wooyoung asked, pushing off the wall with a forced casualness. His voice came out higher than he intended.
San ran a hand through his hair, nodding. "Yeah. Nervous though. First time performing here with an audience like this."
Wooyoung chuckled, the sound a bit forced. "You'll be fine. The crowd's chill tonight. Just follow the music and don't overthink it." He led the way back up the stairs, the awkward silence from earlier now mixed with something electric, like the air before a storm.
As they reached the backstage area, the thump of bass from the main room vibrated through the walls. Yeosang was at the bar mixing drinks, while Jongho hovered nearby, checking the schedule on his phone.
"Mountain's up first." Jongho announced, clapping San on the back. "Give them a show they won't forget."
San took a deep breath, glancing at Wooyoung one last time. "Thanks for the help. See you after?"
Wooyoung nodded, his stomach twisting in a way that had nothing to do with the breakup. "Break a leg."
The lights dimmed in the main room, and the DJ's voice boomed over the speakers. "Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between. Put your hands together for the one and only Mountain!"
San stepped out from behind the curtain, the spotlight hitting him like a wave. Wooyoung watched from the wings, hidden in the shadows. San moved with confidence, his body syncing perfectly with the pulsing beat. It was raw and powerful, every roll of his hips and sharp turn drawing cheers from the crowd. Wooyoung felt a pull in his chest, a mix of envy and something warmer.
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The set flew by, too quick for Wooyoung's liking. When San finished to thunderous applause, he slipped back backstage, sweat shining on his skin, a grin splitting his face.
"Not bad for a newbie." Wooyoung teased, handing him a water bottle.
San took it, their fingers brushing. "Coming from you? That's high praise." He wiped his brow, eyes locked with Wooyoung's. "Your turn now. Show me what I've been missing."
Wooyoung's heart raced as he prepared. The stage called, but for the first time in years, it wasn't just the performance he was focused on. As the announcer called his name, he stepped out, the lights blinding. But in the back of his mind, San's gaze lingered, promising more than just a shared stage.
The music hit hard, a beat that wrapped around Wooyoung like smoke. He owned the stage from the first note, his body moving smoothly. The crowd ate it up, whistles and cheers rising as he dropped low, hips rolling in time with the bass. Sweat shined on his skin under the hot lights, but he pushed through, letting the rhythm chase away the day's shadows. For those minutes, the breakup, the club's troubles, all faded. It was just him and the stage, alive and electric.
As the final notes faded and the applause crashed over him, Wooyoung caught San's eyes from the wings. That intense approving look sent a spark straight through him. He bowed, grinning, and slipped backstage, chest heaving.
Jongho met him with a nod. "Solid as always. Now you two, duet to close it out. The crowd's buzzing! Give them something to talk about."
San stepped forward, still buzzing from his own set. "You up for it?"
Wooyoung wiped his face with a towel, meeting San's gaze. "Let's see what you've got."
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The announcer hyped it up, and the lights shifted to a deeper red. The track started slow, building tension, and they moved together like they'd rehearsed it a hundred times. The energy crackled, the audience leaning in as their bodies synced closer, touches lingering a beat too long.
Halfway through, the music swelled, and impulse took over. San pulled Wooyoung in for a lift, he just held him there, faces inches apart. Wooyoung's breath caught, and before he could think, he closed the gap. Their lips met, hungry right there under the spotlights. The kiss deepened as the crowd whistled, but Wooyoung barely heard them. San's grip tightened, tasting of salt and adrenaline, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just that heat.
They broke apart as the song peaked, finishing the routine with flushed faces and synced breaths. The applause was deafening, but backstage felt like stepping into a different reality. Jongho clapped them both on the back. "That's how you end a night. Now help close up. We're short-staffed."
The club emptied slowly, the last customers heading out with satisfied smiles. Wooyoung swept confetti from the floor while San stacked chairs nearby. Yeosang wiped down the bar, humming softly, and Jongho took trash bags to the back. The air smelled of spilled drinks and fading perfume.
"Nice moves out there.” Yeosang said to Wooyoung, tossing him a cloth. "That kiss? Bold.”
Wooyoung laughed it off, but his cheeks warmed. "Heat of the moment." He glanced at San, who was now wiping tables, muscles flexing under his shirt. That kiss replayed in his mind, stirring something restless.
As the cleanup dragged on, tension simmered. Jongho and Yeosang finished first, heading to the office for counts, leaving Wooyoung and San alone with the last chairs. San set one down harder than needed, the clatter echoing.
"You always that reckless on stage?" San asked, voice low but edged.
Wooyoung straightened, broom pausing. "Reckless? I was going with the flow. You didn't exactly pull away."
San turned, eyes narrowing. "Maybe I was caught up. But you're the old-timer here, kissing a newbie in front of everyone? What if that bites us later?"
Wooyoung's grip tightened on the broom. The breakup's ache mixed with this new frustration, boiling over. "Bites us? The crowd loved it. Jongho's thrilled. You're just mad because you can't handle the spotlight sharing."
San stepped closer, towering a bit, his presence filling the space. "Handle it? I killed my set. You're the one who looked shaken after. Acting like you're above it all, but I see you staring."
Wooyoung shoved the broom aside. "Staring? You're the one who touched my shoulder like you owned the place. Think you're hot shit, Mountain?"
The argument ignited fast, words flying like sparks. San grabbed Wooyoung's arm, pulling him in. "Say that again."
Wooyoung's pulse thundered, anger twisting with want. He yanked San closer, crashing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. It wasn't soft like the one on stage. This was raw, teeth clashing, hands under shirts. San growled, backing Wooyoung against the bar, the edge digging into his hips.
"You drive me crazy." San muttered, nipping at Wooyoung's jaw as he shoved his shirt up, palms rough on skin.
Wooyoung arched into the touch, his nails sliding down San's back hard enough to leave red trails. "Shut up and prove it." he snarled, his voice breathy and challenging, the words laced with the fire still burning from their argument. A low moan escaped him as San's body pressed harder against his, the friction making his cock twitch.
San's eyes darkened, a predatory glint flashing as he grabbed Wooyoung's both wrists in one large hand, pinning them above his head against the bar's polished edge. The wood was cool against Wooyoung's skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from San's body pressed against him.
"You want proof?" San growled low, his free hand trailing down Wooyoung's chest, fingers hooking into the hem of his shirt and yanking it up roughly, exposing Wooyoung’s stomach. "Gonna make you scream my name, Youngie. Bet you've been wanting this since I touched your shoulder."
Wooyoung bucked his hips, trying to flip them again, but San was stronger, his weight shifting to keep him trapped. "Yeah, show me what that big ego can do." Wooyoung teased, though his breath hitched into a needy whimper when San's lips landed on his collarbone, teeth teasing the skin before biting down, not hard enough to break, but enough to sting and send a jolt straight to Wooyoung's core. "Ahh– fuck, San…"
San released his wrists only to shove Wooyoung's shirt higher, his palms roaming possessively over every inch of exposed skin. He pinched a nipple between his fingers, twisting just enough to draw a sharp gasp from Wooyoung who arched again.
"Keep talking like that, and I'll make you beg for it." San murmured against his neck, his voice rough like gravel, hot breath sending shivers down Wooyoung's spine. "Look at you, already hard for me. Dirty little dancer, aren't you?"
His hands moved lower, fumbling with Wooyoung's belt buckle, the metal clinking loudly in the empty club. He yanked the pants open with impatience, shoving them down along with Wooyoung's underwear in one swift motion, leaving him bare from the waist down against the bar.
Wooyoung's cock already hard and aching from the friction of their bodies and the lingering adrenaline. He reached for San, fingers digging into his shoulders, but San caught his hand again, guiding it down instead.
"Touch yourself for me." San ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument, eyes locked on Wooyoung's with dark hunger. "Stroke that pretty cock and moan like the slut you are. Show me how bad you want me."
A flush crept up Wooyoung's neck, but the challenge in San's eyes only fueled his want. "Mmm, like this?" he purred, wrapping his hand around himself, stroking slowly at first, his gaze locked on San's. The way San watched, hungry and unblinking, made Wooyoung's heart race faster, a soft moan slipping out.
Wooyoung watched as San backed off and walked to the ice machine. He took one ice cube and put it in his mouth. “You ready?” San mumbled, the ice cube making it hard to speak. That made Wooyoung chuckle.
San dropped to his knees. He spit the ice cube away from his mouth, his mouth cool and wet as he took Wooyoung in deep without warning. Wooyoung's head fell back against the bar with a thud, a loud moan ripping from his throat. "Fuck… San…"
San's tongue worked relentlessly, sucking and swirling, hollowing his cheeks to take him deeper while one hand gripped Wooyoung's thigh. The other teased at his entrance with a finger, circling the rim before pushing in knuckle-deep.
Wooyoung's hips jerked, another whine escaping as the fingers stretched him. "God, you're so tight." San pulled off just enough to rasp, lips brushing the tip. "You ready to take every inch?"
"Fuck, San…” Wooyoung panted, his free hand tangling in San's hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan. His own hand pumping the base and San's mouth devouring him, everything were overwhelming, building pressure that coiled tight in his gut. But San pulled off too soon, a string of saliva connecting them for a teasing second before he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Patience, baby. I want you begging."
San spun Wooyoung around roughly, pressing his chest to the bar so his ass was exposed, the cool air hitting his heated skin and making him shiver. San's hands were everywhere. He pushed one finger inside.
"You think you can handle me?" San whispered hot against his ear, adding a second finger, scissoring them with deliberate slowness to stretch him, curling to brush that sensitive spot inside.
Wooyoung pushed back, grinding against the intrusion, the pain mixing with pleasure in a way that made him dizzy, moans coming out freely.
"Stop teasing and fuck me already… San, please, I need you…" he demanded, though it came out more like a desperate plea, his voice breaking on a whine. San chuckled, pulling his fingers out only to fumble with his own pants, freeing himself with a relieved groan. Wooyoung heard it. He felt the blunt head of San's thick cock against him, hot and heavy, and then, without further prep, San thrust in.
"Oh god, San.."
San gripped Wooyoung's hips with force, fingers digging into the skin to hold him steady, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. Each thrust rocked Wooyoung against the bar, the edge biting into his stomach, but the fullness, the way San hit that spot inside him over and over, drowned it out in waves of pleasure. San’s one hand slid up to wrap around Wooyoung's throat from behind, not squeezing, just holding. Possessive and grounding.
It shattered him. Wooyoung came, with a choked cry. And so did San, with a low groan.
They stayed like that for a moment, San draped over Wooyoung's back, both panting into the heavy silence, occasional aftershocks making Wooyoung whimper softly. Slowly, San pulled out, the movement making Wooyoung moan one last time. He turned Wooyoung around gently this time, their eyes meeting in the dim light, a shared smirk breaking through. They collapsed against each other on the floor, San's hand lazily tracing patterns on Wooyoung's skin.
They both looked at the backstage’s open curtain. Both tired men burst out laughing when they realized Jongho and Yeosang had left after probably seeing them.
As their laughter faded into comfortable silence, Wooyoung shifted against San's side, the cool floor as a reminder of where they were. "Think they'll give us shit tomorrow?" he asked, voice soft but laced with amusement.
San chuckled, his arm tightening around Wooyoung's waist. "Jongho? Probably. But after that show, he might just thank us for the buzz." He tilted Wooyoung's chin up, their eyes meeting in the low light, the earlier fire now a steady warmth. "Are you okay? With all this?"
Wooyoung nodded, tracing a finger along San's jaw. "Better than okay. Breakup sucked, but tonight... you showed up like you knew exactly what I needed." He paused, a playful glint in his eye. "Don't get cocky though. We've got a long way to go before I completely melt for you…"
San's grin turned mischievous. "Challenge accepted. But seriously, stick around after closing tomorrow? No stage, no crowd. Just us."
Before Wooyoung could answer, a distant door creaked, and Jongho's voice echoed faintly from the office, something about "those two idiots better not break anything." They shared one last kiss, slow and lingering, before pulling themselves together.