Robin disembarked near the town centre, his black bomber jacket zipped up to his chin, hands buried deep in the pockets except when he consulted his phone for directions to the pub where Jemma's band was performing.

Before leaving home, he had deliberately tousled his hair with wax, creating a messy, ruffled look distinct from his usual style. He even debated putting eyeliner on, but he thought that was going too far...

As he turned the corner onto Kings Street, a lively atmosphere greeted him. The street, adorned with uneven cobblestones, featured rows of pubs on either side. People filled benches and tables, laughter and clinking glasses, creating an animated scene for the early hour. Robin scanned the signs until he spotted the one he sought – the Old Duke.

He had told his parents that he was going to go see a friend's band play and wouldn't be back home till late. Robin happily agreed to his dad's eleven-pm curfew, confident that he would return home before then. What he hadn't told his parents was that this gig would be at a pub, and there would likely be drinking involved. And he most definitely didn't tell his parents that he had a massive fat crush on the bass player who had asked him for a drink before the gig started...

Stepping through the entrance, Robin pushed the door open to the harmonious symphony of laughter and conversation that surrounded him. The place was already abuzz with activity, with people gathered around tables and around the bar. To the far right of the pub was a slightly elevated stage, where the band would play later.

Robin surveyed the room, his gaze eventually locking onto the tall, striking figure leaning casually against the bar, engrossed in conversation with a bartender. Clad in black skinny jeans adorned with sporadic patches of red tartan and chains swaying from his hips, the young man's muscular arms were on display beneath a sleeveless black denim jacket, haphazardly embroidered with the band's name on the back. A guitar case hung lazily over his shoulder, completing the ensemble that exuded an air of effortless cool.

Robin approached him and tentatively tapped Yohan on the shoulder, hoping to catch his attention.

When Yohan turned to look at who had touched him, Robin felt like he was seeing things in slow motion. Yohan's hair danced with the motion, his eyes gleaming, and his mouth turned up slightly at the sight of Robin. What caught Robin's attention immediately was the revelation beneath the denim vest Yohan wore – nothing!

Yohan's exposed chest boasted an array of silver necklaces and chains, emphasising his bare torso. As the denim vest revealed more than Robin had anticipated, he couldn't help but notice the tattoos adorning Yohan's well-defined physique. A skeleton holding a synth graced his right pectoral and a sacred heart on his sternum. Robin always had his suspicions that Yohan would be ripped under his shirt... but not that ripped! His abs were clearly defined on his stomach, and his pecs were much bigger than he expected. And his V line... oh how desperately he wanted to see what was further down.

I've definitely just died and gone to heaven. This can't be real; it has to be a dream. I'm literally standing in front of a rock god...

"Robin, was wondering when you'd turn up. Drink?" Yohan said, making room for Robin to squeeze in next to him at the bar. As their arms pressed against each other, a warm sensation enveloped Robin's entire body, and his vision seemed to blur slightly.

"Um... Sure..." Robin stammered, feeling the heat radiating through him. Yohan signalled the bartender and ordered a house lager, then turned to Robin. Robin stood there slightly speechless; he couldn't believe he was standing next to such a beautiful man. He couldn't even muster up such a hottie in his imagination...

"Cider, please," he managed to finally say.

Is it hot in here?

The bartender poured the drinks, and before Robin could offer to pay, Yohan had tapped his card on the card machine for both of them. Grabbing the drinks with his big hands effortlessly, Yohan casually signalled with his head towards an empty table in the corner of the room.

Music pumped through the air already, and Yohan led the two of them over to the table. Although it was early, the place was already pretty packed. They got themselves seated at the tiny table in the corner and squeezed next to each other on small bar stools. Although Yohan looked a bit ridiculous, with his large body towering over the tiny table, he still looked incredible. Like a proper rockstar...

They sat there for a moment in silence, not saying anything, until they both awkwardly broke the silence between them.

"I..."

"I..."

"You go first," Yohan said, lifting his pint and taking a hearty gulp. A small amount escaped the side of his glass, trickling down his mouth and dripping onto his bare chest.

"I'm... ummm.... Thank you for inviting me," Robin said, attempting to maintain eye contact with Yohan's face and resist letting his eyes wander down his body. "For the drink before the show, I mean... I'm... yeah, thanks."

In an attempt to gather some Dutch courage, Robin picked up his glass, taking three large gulps. The cider was crisp and refreshing, bursting with bubbles, leaving a sweet-tart taste dancing on his tongue. As he set the glass back down with a thud, he let out a soft exhale.

"Woah, easy tiger," Yohan remarked, raising his eyebrows. "You're not going to be a liability this early into the night, are you?" He added, with a smirk.

Robin felt a warmth in his cheeks that he wasn't sure was caused by either the comment, or the alcohol, and he tipped his head down awkwardly.

"It's no problem really. To be honest, I thought it'd be nice to meet outside of school, and not in that dingy classroom for once." Yohan said, the teasing quality to his voice dissipating.

He wanted to see me...Outside of school... On purpose? Jesus, I can't take this.

Not risking lifting his head, Robin fidgeted with his hands, "Well...Yeah, it's nice... And thank you for the drink, haha, yeah, I'll slow down," Robin said, reaching for his glass and taking a smaller sip of cider.

"Your outfit," Robin braved to say, allowing himself to look Yohan up and down. "It's, umm...cool."

"This old thing?" Yohan grinned, tugging at his vest. "It's a vintage denim jacket from my grandad, but I made a few adjustments," Yohan said as he mimicked scissors with his hands, indicating where he had cut off the sleeves. "I'd usually wear something underneath," Yohan said, trailing off and a subtle smirk rested on his lips.

Is he grinning because I've gone bright red at the mention of his bare chest? God, if I touch my cheeks right now will they be hot to the touch? Fuck, if I do that, will it be too obvious?

"But it's so warm this evening, aren't you hot in your coat, Robin?" 

Yohan was right—Robin was sweltering under his bomber jacket, still zipped up to his chin. It was probably one of the last few hot days left before the autumn weather kicked in, and the previous day's rain had made the air muggy and humid. Even Robin's mum had made a comment about the fact that he wouldn't need a coat as he left the house.

"Um... I'm fine," Robin mumbled, briefly looking away from Yohan, trying to conceal the nervous flutter in his stomach.

"Don't be ridiculous; you look like you're burning up with that bright red face." Yohan's fingers reached for the zipper at the collar of Robin's jacket. A fleeting touch brushed Robin's face as Yohan deftly pulled the zipper down, unveiling Robin's torso inch by inch. The zipper's journey continued until the jacket was completely undone, and Yohan's hand now lingered dangerously close to a more intimate territory.

Yohan withdrew his hand from the zipper and rose from his chair, moving behind Robin. "Let me help you out," he offered, as Robin nervously obliged, allowing Yohan to help him remove his jacket one arm at a time. The simple act held an unexpectedly intimate undertone, sending a subtle shiver down Robin's spine.

"Um... thanks" Robin stammered as Yohan hung the jacket up behind him before sitting back down in his seat. Now, Yohan appeared to be looking him up and down.

Was he blushing?

"You an MCR fan, then?" Yohan inquired after an awkward pause, taking another swig from his pint.

"Um, I know a few of their songs, but mainly my sister used to be a massive fan. It's actually her..." Robin cut himself off before potentially embarrassing himself. "Never mind."

"It's her shirt?" Yohan seemed to have grasped what Robin was hinting at, a small grin forming on his lips. "Explains the tightness..."

"I know it's embarrassing... I should have never worn it!" Robin exclaimed, attempting to reach for his coat with one arm as he half rose from his seat.

"No, no, no, it's not." Yohan chuckled, placing a hand on Robin's hand as he tried to reach for his jacket. He lightly pushed it back onto the table, letting his hand rest in Robin's for a moment. "I'm glad you wore it. I like it... you look h... it looks good on you." He removed his hand from Robin's and briefly looked away.

Yohan seemed flustered, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, eye's slightly darting in Robin's direction, seemingly struggling to maintain eye-contact. His cheeks adorning a slight rosey colour. Robin had never witnessed this side of Yohan. He usually exuded a cool, calm, collected demeanour, seemingly unfazed by anyone's opinion, and this reaction was uncharacteristically the opposite.

"Thanks..." Robin shuffled in his seat, taking a few more sips of his cider. They sat there in slightly awkward conversation for a little longer as they sipped on their drinks. Robin was certain Yohan kept glancing down at Robin's torso in the tight shirt, but he wasn't entirely sure.

Robin noticed Yohan looking past him. Curious, he turned around to see what had captured Yohan's attention. Through the pub's main door entered Jemma, holding a guitar case in one hand and an amp in the other. Behind her followed the guitarist from the video, wheeling in a drum set, and the redhead carrying some other music equipment that Robin didn't recognise.

For a brief moment, Jemma halted and surveyed the pub as if on a mission to find someone. Her gaze landed on Yohan, and it was as if laser beams shot out of her eyes as she zeroed in on him, seemingly oblivious to Robin, swallowed up in the midst of the crowd.

"Come help us get this stuff out of the van and set up!" Jemma's voice was barely audible over the noise of the pub, just loud enough for Yohan and Robin to hear her.

"Alright..." Yohan mouthed as he stood up from his chair. "I better help them out." He took his glass in hand, finished his drink with several large gulps, and slammed it down on the table. Then he picked up the guitar case he had leaned against the table and placed it on his shoulder again. "You coming, groupie?" He wore a cheeky smile on his face.

"Hey! I'm not a groupie!" Robin retorted, standing up from the table with annoyance, retrieving his jacket from the hook and draping it over his arm.

"Yet..." Yohan said smugly, holding out his hand towards Robin. "Come on, then."

Robin stretched out his arm, slightly reluctantly reaching for Yohan's hand. As their hands met, Yohan's warm grip enveloped Robin's hand. Yohan's hands were much larger than his own, his fingers adorned with a few different silver rings that felt cold against the opposing warmth of Robin's skin.

Was Yohan, the Yohan, really holding his hand?