((He's angy guys :( Art made by Pomodoko on Instagram. I'm not sure what category to set this one-shot in. It's not fluff but it's not angst. So it's a surprise ;)

Ship: Player!Doc X Bdubs))

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Bdubs was never one to riot at a fierce and unstable flash party.

Sure, he loves parties, but only when they are moderately collective and with humble friends. As he stares uncomfortably across the flashing dancefloor, filled to the brim and edges with dancing individuals, he suddenly wished he was back in the sweet oasis of serenity that consisted of multiple beds and television time.

With the reminder of inviting beds, he suddenly realized that the bitter evening is hanging over his head, just past the high ceiling with dynamic neon lights that move in random directions to spruce up party action.

In all honesty, Bdubs isn't prepared to engage with an inappropriate rave that consists of too much sharp alcohol, eye strain, and ear-shattering music with bass so loud on the giant speakers that it can vibrate the room. When his friends asked him if he wanted to go out, the last thing he would ever expect was this.

"Loosen up, Bubbles! Get out of your comfort zone every once and a while," Scar practically screams over the music. He hugs Bdub's shoulder, grinning. The brilliant black light makes his white teeth shine in comparison to his wild, cartoonish dance uniform.

"I don't know about this," Bdubs says without raising his voice, hoping Scar wouldn't entirely listen to what he's saying, and inwardly pleading the music drowned out his trembling voice. However, based on his quivering lip movements and evident uneasy expression, Scar seems to clutch onto the hint.

"No worries! Just dance and maybe have a few drinks. Oh! And I got your favorite bandana also," Scar actively mentions before pulling a lucent red bandana from one of his front pockets. He unhooks his arm from Bdub's taut shoulders to quickly tie it around his troubled companion's forehead. "There! You look like a party captain now!"

"I'm still unsure about this," Bdubs interjects, fumbling his tan thumbs in front of his unyielding chest. He takes a moment's peeked down at his anxious fiddling and frantically observes the outfit he's occupying. The dark sweatpants and radiant white hoodie he's stuck in surely makes him appear out of his field considering all the people wearing revealing outfits or exceptional clothes to match the insane atmosphere.

"Take a chill pill, my love. This is supposed to be the time of your life. Go get a few drinks, and we'll meet back here in an hour, alright?" Scar inquires. His grin threatens to fall and slightly falters at the corners when Bdubs tries tugging on a fake smile. He shakily raises a thumbs-up. He knew he wouldn't be able to get himself out of this dastardly situation. If he did, his friends would question where he went and possibly call the police again.

He certainly didn't want history repeating itself.

"I-I'll try to have fun! Yeah!" Bdubs raises his voice as a single ounce of confident pours to his mood. If he was going to stay here for a few hours, he should at least dance and have fun, despite not liking the differences in the unusual environment he's unfamiliar with.

Scar seemingly pats Bdub's shoulders as a weak attempt of providing comfort. Then, he swiftly veers away after something seizes his short attention. Bdubs stands in the exact position for a solid minute as the last enduring thread of pride slips out of himself. His fatigue smile ultimately collapses, and as a replacement, a frown settles in between his dark walnut eyebrows.

Finally, he starts to pace around the area to become familiar with his sudden changing surroundings. He silently maps out the location of the vinyl bar booths, the centerpiece of the brilliant dance floor, where the bathrooms are, and the casual dining tables to eat a distance away from the vigorous dancing.

He even finds an area that has people's names marked on the fancy doors for reservations. With the posters of almost naked women in strange poses and illuminating red lights flowing from behind love-seats, Bdubs left that section faster than a racehorse with burning cheeks of embarrassment.

He wasn't sure how much time sluggishly heaved by. It could've been a few minutes or an entire hour. He has been losing track of time awfully. No digital clocks were lining the walls (due to marketing purposes to keep people staying at the party longer), and all the regular, classic ticking clocks were nearly impossible to read under all the transforming lights. At this point, he was ready to down intense shots until his body gave out entirely.

He heads his way over to the bar when suddenly an obnoxious wolf whistle makes his head jerk to the source. The whistle was frankly loud, especially since it seemed to set the blasting music to shame. His head twisted so fast, the ends of his bandana slapped against the back of his head while his coffee tinted hair whips around.

Sitting among a group of both men and women inside a half-circle booth lies a man with emerald-green skin. An unbuttoned, stainless dress shirt envelopes his muscular build, paired with black trousers running along his extensive legs. His lips break into an easy grin the single second Bdub's eyes fix on the stranger's organic eye.

The other is replaced with what Bdub's assumes is advanced cybernetic technology with a crimson hue faintly glowing from it. With the man's cunning teeth filled smirk, Bdub's face abruptly shoots up in balmy temperatures. His bottom lip catches underneath his top teeth since he couldn't deny that this attractive stranger was remarkably charming in an odd way.

The individual unhinges his arms from the small gathering of people around him. At a glance, the individual stands up and marks his way towards Bdubs, passing people without running into anyone. The lone eye lingers solely on Bdubs and doesn't give any flicker to any other human, no matter how dashingly striking the people encasing him are.

When the last step was taken, and a tiny space of air remains between the two, Bdubs becomes hesitant and tilts his head up to gaze at the matchless eyes of the person towering over him. The muscular person gently takes Bdub's hand like a fragile kitten and presses the shaking male's knuckles against his flushed lips.

"I like your style," the male begins, his voice humming in a deep, alluring German accent that can hypnotize anyone. "Carefree, basic, and lazy. It screams 'I don't care about anything, let me drink my vodka in peace' I like it. It's unique, yet simple."

Words fail to stumble out of Bdub's mouth. He was merely enchanted in the person's compliment no matter how early they met in the raw, potential night. The undeniable tone of his tender, yet captivatingly hoarse voice was enough for Bdubs to feel like he's melting to the glossy planked floors.

"Is- Is this what getting laid feels like?" Bdubs squeaks, and when he realized what statement came spiraling out, he hurriedly tries setting the pearl-colored hood on his fluffy hair to pull the drawstrings harshly. The guy in front of him throws his head back and laughs loudly yet delightfully, partially dismissing the awkward question.

With Bdub's stunned silence, he listens as the tantalizing male eases his laughter. "I'm not sure what your interpretation of getting laid is," the male wipes a single tear that began to dribble out the corner of his eye. "But would you like to have a dance with me?"

Bdubs, still dubious, complies without a single word straining past his peach lips. The figure lowers Bdub's hands to release it only to raise it again and loosen the tight hood hugging Bdub's face. When his eyes and scorching cheeks divulge to the stranger, another smile crawls it's way to his green cheeks. Then, with a rolled-up dress shirt sleeve, the person holds out his arm in a romantic gesture. Bdubs wasn't sure what washed over him, but it seemed to be an automatic response to wrap his arm firmly around the stranger.

Perhaps it was the opportunity to have a chance at creating fun?

Whatever the reason was, he allowed his love-struck self stroll next to the human as they turn to the intense dance floor. The slow time seems to only speed up as the two senselessly dance around even if they fail to flow with the rhythm of the music. Multiple songs coarse through the raving area, most of which lead to the stranger spinning Bdubs around in flawless motion and dipping him throughout the optimistic beats.

During the dancing hour, the stranger asks Bdubs if he has a fun story to share. In response, Bdubs tells a rousing, hilarious tale about how he left his friends during a casual social gathering to buy something, and they called the police to go searching for him since he got lost in an IKEA.

As time keeps passing with no trouble, another song promptly fades, and a new one follows along to replace it. Bdubs takes an instant to puncture aside from the dancing to throw out a question that has been straggling around his brain. "What's your name?!" He calls as people brush along his shoulder due to the densely packed floor.

"The name's Doc," the other replies, bringing his soft fingers under Bdub's narrow chin to lift his head. "And I'm a doctor that has diagnosed you with acute smile~" He purrs near the end, making Bdub's eyelids fall halfway and a dorky smile to hoist his lips. Quickly, Doc looks down at his wrist. A golden watch laces around his arm, and his organic eye checks the time. "Would you like a drink? You must be thirsty after dancing that much."

"I can go for a drink," Bdubs answers, keeping his buoyant smile now that his mood is content and became besotted with this infatuated man. "Let's go together."

Doc holds his large hand out to block Bdubs from moving forward. "You go ahead and stay here. I'll pay for the drinks," his devious smirk slips over Bdub's head as he simply trusts that smile to be innocent worthy. Before Bdubs can remark about wanting to pay, Doc crosses down the dancing platform and disappears into the crowd of animated strangers.

He assures himself that Doc will grab a light drink or water for him to consume so he wouldn't pass out from heat exhaustion. With all the sweat covering his body, he was thankful Scar tagged along with his favorite bandana and tied it upon his forehead, generally because of how hot it is and the off chance that he was going to dance.

Ten minutes pass by.

Bdubs dances to the wild music once again as he remembers how packed the bar lines were when he first arrived.

Twenty minutes pass by.

Bdubs loses all sense of time, almost forgetting about Doc until a song about a guy falling in love plays. He uses his best efforts to make himself pleasant at where he's at since he hardly dances with many strangers alone.

Thirty minutes pass by.

At last, after waiting half an hour, Bdubs shoves his way through the crowd. Apparent perturb is written all across his face at Doc's capricious shift in his charming behavior. Half an hour is more than enough time to provide drinks, so Bdubs doesn't understand what the issue is.

He storms around, not only in slight rage at the amount of time that he has wasted alone but with the concerning question wondering if the mysterious Doc will ever return. The man seemed to be feeding an intoxicating emotion Bdubs has never experienced before, and that leaves him deeply pondering about Doc's unusual absence.

When he located Doc, he wouldn't have guessed it to be the exact spot where they first exchanged eye contact. But here he was, lounging back in the same group of people, now a cigar clamped in between his lips. Clenching his fists, Bdubs treads to the table and slams his hands down on the surface, alerting Doc and the few strangers around him.

"I thought you were getting drinks! Where have you been?" Bdubs asks, bearing his teeth slightly. Accompanied by an unamused appearance, Doc pulls the cancer stick to hold in between his fingers like a mass supervillain. A small but thick cloud drifts out of his mouth and nose.

"Who are you?"

The question sends a jolt of pain and a harsh shudder down Bdub's spine. He growls lowly.

"I'm Bdubs, remember? The guy you were getting drinks for?" He snaps, opening his arms to gesture Doc to observe his frame. The girls around Doc's arms giggle and force Bdubs into a state of sheer puzzlement.

"Oooh, I see. Listen, little man. I wanted to play with you. It's just a harmless, little prank. So, go ahead, slap me, run away and cry to your Nanny because I wasn't ever going to buy a drink for your sorry ass," Doc nonchalance says. He shrugs once and proceeds to settle the tip of the cigar back in his lips.

Meanwhile, Bdub's fingers clutch drastically as his nails carve tiny crescent moons into his palm. The heat on his cheek and neck rise as they sweep with a shameful pink. He has never felt more embarrassed in his entire life. During his years, he has never been more humiliated than what he is in right now, especially when the people surrounding Doc giggle at Bdoc's red face.

He has gotten pranked before. He has been pantsed. He had the ignominy of doing a public dare. But never has he once met a man so selfish to ditch him inside an environment that makes him uncomfortable, then have him treated like another toy in Doc's sandbox.

Doc stands up in an intimidating way and takes a few steps towards Bdubs. "Aw, are you going to-"

Sudden gasps flood the scene and Doc immediately sees stars.

Bdub's swift fist collides into Doc's arousing hostile face, which makes Doc tumble to the ground, cigar flying out of his mouth and rolling against the slick floor. He groans as he shakes, trembles, and slightly cries out when a thick line of crimson trickles under his nose. The people that once surrounded Doc cheer "SUCKER-PUNCH!" and praise at Bdub's menacing approach.

"Don't ever treat me, or anyone else, like that again," Bdubs spits and hisses together. Pure fury has managed to unfold on a man that he believes deserves it. A drip of red from under Doc's injured nose plummets to the floor, a cue for Bdubs that his work is done. He briskly turns on his heels, not even delivering a glimpse, and begins to stomp away to find Scar. Doc raises his head and uses his hands as support to ogle Bdub's retreating form.

For the first time in years, Doc's eyes sparkle with admiration.