TW: None

On December 31st, Ross sat alone, drinking at a rowdy bar filled with his co-workers. Sat on the stool beside him, Lewis. Previously, the two were engaged in a conversation that died out shortly after it began, feeling far too forced to legitimately enjoy. Instead, he turned his attention to his drink, being sure to keep it filled to the brim and praying to be too hammered to remember hearing the clock striking to signal midnight and being alone for yet another year.

Heading thirty, Ross felt it shameful that he hadn't been in a serious relationship in almost four years. And even then, it only lasted what, five months? It wasn't even him that broke it off. How pathetic. He drowned his sorrows with another gulp of his revolting alcohol. Normally, he wasn't such a big drinker. But tonight, as on every December 31st, his best friends were several bottles of gin. Speaking of his best friends, Trott and Smith had ditched him a long time ago. Now, Trott stood (barely remaining on his feet, swaying with every step he attempted to take) with Katie and Hannah, laughing at something apparently very funny one of them had said. And Smith, well, Ross had no idea where Smith was. He thought he saw him twenty minutes ago heading into the bathroom but he couldn't have been sure. Lots of people looked like Smith, especially with the vibrant orange lighting and Ross' drink-infected, blurry vision. He sighed and sipped his beverage again, gaze falling back down to his feet set on the cold bar stool.

He felt stupid, dressing up for the occasion. The occasion of course being the Yogscast's yearly reservation at a bar Ross didn't know had existed until just a few years ago called "The Canton Silk". Of course, he felt obligated to tidy himself up for the event, brushing his hair back neatly and wearing one of his dearest Superdry shirts, tucked into a pair of black pants. However, his once perfect hair now hung all over his face listlessly, falling every time he looked down. Oh, and his whole outfit had been ruined by Sjin almost immediately after his arrival, spilling a bright red and pungent drink all down the front. Being the person he was, he played it off cool and assure Sjin it was fine, while internally screaming and throwing a fit, calling the bearded man names he would be ashamed to say out loud. After scrubbing his front for a good ten minutes, he eventually gave up entirely. He gave up trying to impress anyone. He gave up trying to pretend that this upcoming year 'might be different'. He gave up trying to act as though he didn't think that he would've rather been anywhere else, preferably tucked up in bed before it hit twelve o'clock. He gave up.

Ross was always a person who always tried to find the silver linings in things and it led him here, sitting alone like a rejected misfit in High School at lunch. Even Lewis, who Ross knew for a fact hated the New Year, had turned him down, thinking it much more entertaining to stir his drink and watch the exact same pattern swirl and twist in the honey coloured liquid. If there was one person Ross thought he could rely on, it was Smith. And look where that got him. Ross had tried to stick with Smith earlier in the night, following him like a dog on a leash or a lost child, feeling confused every time his auburn friend left his sight. It got to a point where Ross thought he had annoyed Smith enough and (not wanting to ruin his night and drag him down with Ross) sat at the bar and ordered way too many drinks for a healthy intake. The litany of New Years spent alone had began to take their toll on him, slowly turning him into an alcoholic; for one night a year, at least. Checking his watch, Ross saw there were about fifteen minutes left before the current year passed on and he had to pretend to be happy welcoming in another egregious one; even the thought of it made him tired.

He shifted in his chair and considered his options: one, he could excuse himself and leave, getting himself home just in time to avoid the ringing bells and fireworks around his apartment; two, he could stay and be miserable with everyone around him making out with people they wouldn't sober, regretting it all the next morning when undoubtedly at least two of them would wake up naked and covered in hickeys; or three, he could find somewhere quiet to stand, out of view from the others while he desperately tried to drink himself unconscious. Nodding his head to himself at three, he swept up his glass in one smooth movement and didn't bother to say anything to Lewis as he strode off, searching for an unoccupied corner. Scanning across the large, thudding room, he saw exactly what he was looking for. Pushing past several furiously grinding couples, he sat down at the side on the perfectly placed bench in a cubbyhole.

The whole atmosphere made him feel lethargic, and he wasn't even dancing. Not to mention, the song blasting through the aloft speakers was a horrendous cacophony of male and female's voices that he felt was inducing a migraine every second more of it he heard. Most people thought he liked those kinds of songs, but those people were terribly mistaken. There was nothing he hated more than the unintelligible nonsense they played at clubs, especially at this time of year while people wandered around completely off their heads, trying to get laid. Other people around the room, he noticed, seemed to enjoy the song as they came up with awful dance moves to match the beat of the song. He shook his head and turned back to his drink. Getting utterly wasted in a fifteen minute time limit? It seemed like an appetizing challenge. Maybe then he might pass out and not have to bear watching all of his co-workers kissing as he sat alone in the corner with only his drink to accompany him. Wasting no time, he closed his eyes and started chugging the liquid that tasted almost too much like urine for his liking. He nearly choked when a warm body sat beside him closely.

"You look like you're having fun, mate." Smith's voice rang in his ears, encouraging him to lower his drink, "What's up?"

Ross scoffed, "Just getting ready for the New Year. Here's to another." He raised his glass facetiously, "Speaking of, I need another drink."

As he made to stand, a firm grip on his shoulder sat him back down, "Ross, what's the matter?" His eyes met Smith's concerned own.

"It's nothing, mate. Don't worry about me." He said, imploring Smith to drop it. Apparently, when his sobriety went out of the door, so did his acting ability. Smith looked at him with a questioning expression, knowing it was definitely not nothing, imploring Ross to talk about his true feelings with more candor than he was.

"C'mon, Ross." Smith didn't seem to be drunk at all, speaking expressly, "What's wrong?"

Ross exhaled soundly. It was a tough question to answer. What was wrong? He didn't even know himself. So, he allowed the drunk part of his brain to take over, sure that rambling aimlessly would be more informative to Smith than remaining silent, "I don't actually know. Well, at least I don't think I know. Or maybe I do. What I do know is that it's New Years and I'm alone, yet again. You and Trott seem to be having a great time and I'm being a downer, sat with Lewis who doesn't even want to talk to me because of how boring I am and drinking, hoping I don't stay conscious enough to see the clock strike twelve. And I feel that there's something important missing. I think it's where my heart used to be." His mind thought it best to end with a joke because perhaps it would distract Smith from all of the ineffably depressing words uttered preceding the final ones. Thankfully, it did elicit a chuckle from the auburn haired man, but it didn't stop the pity from embedding itself in the noise.

"Well, mate." His voice didn't sound as patronizing as Ross had anticipated it would, "I'm sorry I didn't notice. But, if you'd like, I can make it up to you?" He raised a blonde eyebrow.

Ross laughed in a singular breath, "What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking..." He paused and extended a long arm to Ross, standing in the process, "How about a dance?"

Ross couldn't control the explosion of giggles that escaped him at Smith's offer. After all, the man knew Ross couldn't dance to save his life! Plus, the music was hardly a first lesson kind, sounding like an appalling mix between Skrillex and Guns 'N' Roses, the latter being something he usually enjoyed. Though, Ross couldn't deny that a dance with Smith would make him feel much less alone. Quickly, he checked his wrist for the time. Ten minutes til midnight, maybe meaning Ross wouldn't be alone when the bell sounded and the lights set off, signifying a brand new year. With such perfect timing, how could Ross say no?

"Sure, why not?" He smiled up at Smith and placed his palm gently on top of the other man's outstretched one jokingly. In a blur of colours and voices, Ross felt himself being towed through the crowd to a more secluded spot across the room. A grinning Smith turned around to face him when they arrived, pulling their hands apart gently. A sudden realization hit Ross that he had absolutely no idea how to dance. The only kind of dancing Ross knew how to do vaguely was ballroom, and he doubted it would suit the current music very well.

"Uh, Smith?" He mumbled, causing the subject to furrow his eyebrows and crouch to look at Ross' face.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Smith asked, placing a hand steadily on his shoulder.

"No- it's fine, I just... I have no idea how to do this." He concluded, looking into Smith's eyes hopefully, "I can't dance, mate."

Smith's toothy grin returned, wider this time. He shrugged, "Just go with the music. Do anything!"

Ross shot him an unsure glance, prompting him to give him an example at least. Smith caught on and started swaying lightly, moving his hands in front of him and surprisingly matching the music somehow. Following his lead, Ross moved awkwardly side to side, not feeling comfortable despite all of the alcohol in his system. It usually made him overly confident but for some reason dancing was something he couldn't do, no matter what he drank or in what quantity. Though he knew it looked awful, Smith kept smiling encouragingly and changed his moves to copy Ross'. He looked like an idiot, but it made Ross feel better and that was all that mattered.

"So, what've you been doing all night, mate?" Smith asked cheekily, knowing all too well what Ross had been up to before he found him, "Not drinking like that, I hope?"

"Well, do you want the truth or a lie?" Ross retorted, smile growing on his own face too.

"What's the lie?" Smith asked in jest, forcing the smile to fall from his face as though to look more sincere.

"'Oh, nah, mate. Only just started like that when you found me.'" He put on a silly voice, making Smith grin.

"Good, good." Smith said, "What's that thing you were saying earlier about Lewis?"

Ross remembered and slowed down his movements, already starting to sweat with all of the heat emitting from the bodies surrounding them, "Stopped talking to me, didn't he? What a prick, amirite?"

"I will avenge you, fine sir! No one disrespects Ross Hornby like that and lives!" Smith beamed, his crystal eyes scintillating.

Out of nowhere, the music stopped abruptly and everyone around them started counting from ten.

Ten

Ross looked down at his watch, surprised to find it read 11:59pm.

Nine

He looked back up and met Smith's eyes, seeing a great deal of conflict and questioning in them.

Eight

Smith's pensive air only made Ross tenfold.

Seven

His eyes darted around Ross' featured, tracing his dark hairline and wide, unwitting eyes. Ross thought he saw him skim his lips, too, but only momentarily. Soon, they were back, finding his stare with ease.

Six

Smith seemed to choke up, coughing before he uttered something Ross couldn't hear.

"What?" Ross shouted over the loud crowd.

Five

"This is so random, but can I kiss you?" Smith said, trembling.

Four

Ross couldn't believe his ears.

Three

Ross said nothing.

Two

Ross wet his lips.

One

"Please." He voiced, barely above a whisper.

A hatch opened above them and Smith took Ross' jaw into his grasp, pulling the two faces close enough together to press their lips together deliberately. Loud whoops and cheers surrounded the pair as they melted together like chocolate on a Summer's day. Streamers and balloons fell from a hatch in the ceiling, all varying in colour, forming a rainbow beneath everyone's feet. People around them grabbed the nearest person to them and pulled them in for a kiss, but Ross didn't care to notice. All he could feel, all he could fathom, was the man kissing him in the moment. The perfect pressure between them, the cool of Smith's hands juxtaposition to Ross' overheated face and the unbelievably coordinated rhythm they fell into, unwilling to break apart any time in the near future, if they had any say in it. Ross threw his arms over Smith's prominent shoulders and implored him to come closer, with which he complied. Time passed indefinitely and all too soon they had to draw back for air. Ross hands kept their position, nevertheless. His own joy matched that painted on Smith's face, grinning like mad men.

"Mate?" Smith shuffled his feet.

"Yeah?" Ross sighed dreamily.

"Happy New Year, Ross."

"Happy New Year, Smith."

Credit to FanficIsLove on Ao3