Yohan led Robin towards the door, making their way to the crowded smoking area outside. The venue, now at its peak capacity, buzzed with the energy of people smoking, laughing, and chatting merrily.

As they stepped into the outdoor space, a few admirers approached Yohan, offering congratulations on the set and expressing their enjoyment of the band. Yohan smiled graciously, but something in his demeanour caught Robin's attention. The smile seemed forced, and a hint of flustered unease lingered beneath the surface as he interacted with the well-wishers.

Muttering something about needing to leave, Yohan gently guided Robin through the tightly packed crowd, finding a quiet spot against the pub wall. Leaning against it, Yohan sighed audibly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

Robin stood in front of him, feeling a bit unsteady from the alcohol, unsure of how to respond. Yohan wore a stern expression as he placed the cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and took a deep inhale. The tip of the cigarette glowed brightly, casting a subtle illumination on his face as the city's buildings absorbed the fading sunlight behind them.

"You okay...?" Robin managed to say, still swaying on the spot, looking up at Yohan as he seemed to gaze into the distance.

"Yeah... I love being in a band, you know, just struggling a bit from all the attention," Yohan chuckled, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Which is ironic because who dresses like this and doesn't expect to get attention?" He gestured up and down his body with the hand holding the cigarette. With each drag, Yohan appeared to loosen up and relax, peering over at Robin. "How much have you had to drink?" He raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Um... only like, four ciders? Maybe five? I don't know. I don't drink very often, to be honest."

"Jesus, you are a liability; come lean against the wall before you fall over," Yohan said, beckoning him to stand next to him, with one hand, stubbing out his cigarette with the other in a nearby ashtray.

Robin nodded, and he took a step forward. Suddenly, he felt an unsteady sway, his shoe catching on something. Before he could comprehend the impending fall, he was tumbling forward, desperately trying to break his descent by stretching out his arms. In that brief moment of panic, he landed on a warm, firm surface, slightly damp with sweat.

Looking up, Robin found himself cradled in Yohan's arms. Yohan's hands wrapped around Robin's shoulders, and their faces were inches apart. Robin's hands instinctively found purchase on Yohan's chest, his fingers registering the warmth of Yohan's skin. A rapid heartbeat pulsed beneath his touch, unsure if it was his own or Yohan's. A few tendrils of Yohan's hair gently brushed against Robin's face as he peered down at him.

Locked in this unexpected closeness, they exchanged silent glances. Robin couldn't look away from Yohan's deep chocolate-brown eyes, their dilated pupils revealing the intensity of the moment. With Yohan so close, Robin felt the warmth of his breath on his lips, as if Yohan were leaning in even closer. The air between them thickened with palpable tension, and the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric charge of this suspended moment in time. Each heartbeat reverberated in the silence, heightening the anticipation that hung in the air.

Yohan pulled away, leaving Robin's arms, which were planted on his chest, to fall to his sides. His cheeks took on a blush-pink hue as he broke eye contact.

"That was close," he muttered under his breath, his cheeks deepening into an even darker shade of pink.

As Robin stood there, momentarily stunned, Yohan turned to him looking slightly panicked. "That was a close call, I mean! You almost face-planted the floor!" He laughed nervously.

"Um, yeah, ha ha," Robin said, still staring at him. "Um, thanks for catching me."

Yohan scratched his head, clearly attempting to compose himself, "It's alright... Come sit with me," Yohan suggested, sliding his back down the wall to sit on the floor. He rested his arms on his knees, which were slightly spread apart.

Robin took a seat beside him, settling on the ground with his legs crossed and a space between them. Looking around, Robin observed the people in the smoking area. Hidden from sight behind a wall of legs and shoes, no one seemed to pay attention to the two boys sitting together on the floor. The dimly lit atmosphere provided a semblance of privacy amidst the bustling crowd.

What the fuck just happened?

Neither of them spoke for about five minutes. Robin could feel his heart going a million miles a minute, unsure what to make of the whole situation. Yohan finally broke the silence between them--taking another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Cautiously, Robin dared to cast a glance at Yohan, only to find him leaning against his knees, his face veiled by his hair, making it difficult to discern his expression.

"You know those things can kill you?" Robin teased, attempting to break the tension, nudging him with his shoulder.

"I know... filthy habit," Yohan said, putting the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling deeply.

"So... I really enjoyed the show; I think you've converted me." Robin spoke softly, still looking at him as Yohan appeared intently focused on the sea of legs in front of them.

"What music do you usually like?

"Um... well... I quite like Taylor Swift."

Yohan choked on his cigarette, spluttering out clouds of smoke as he coughed. His head turned towards Robin, his face displaying sarcastic disgust.

"Jesus Christ... You need a lesson in good music," Yohan chuckled, his face seeming to soften as he smiled at Robin.

"What's wrong with Taylor Swift?" Robin pouted, crossing his arms playfully. "She writes all her own songs; she's talented, and she started from nothing! I think it's very honourable!"

"Both her parents were bankers, and she grew up in a mansion... That's not starting from nothing, Robin."

"But!"

"No buts, remind me to introduce you to some proper music at some point," Yohan shoved him playfully.

"That doesn't explain her writing all her own music, though! You have to admit her stuff is catchy!"

"For you, maybe... and anyway, writing songs ain't that hard."

"Well, who writes your band's songs then?"

"I do."

Robin's eyes widened in surprise. So many of the songs Jemma sang were about, well, sex. He assumed either she or Lizzy wrote them, as many involved lyrics about boys and how they wanted to touch them all over. About lusting for someone who doesn't want you back—about confusion in love—I mean, songs a girl would write about—well, boys.

"Apart from our song called 'fuck men,'" Yohan let out a low laugh, "that was all Lizzy's doing. I just helped her with the composition."

Robin was speechless. He still couldn't believe it was Yohan who had written those songs. He felt his mouth hang open slightly in shock.

"What?" Yohan said, waiting for a response. "Why is that so surprising?"

"I... uh... I just didn't expect it," Robin managed to say.

"What, because of the raunchy themes?" Yohan grinned, and Robin felt himself get even hotter. "It's popular and fits Jemma's vibe and stage presence. I'm not some pervert that only writes songs about sex; they're just the songs I write for the band."

"So... you write other songs too?"

"Sometimes."

"I see..."

"Anyways..." Yohan said, stubbing out his second cigarette against the wall. "We've been out here too long; Jemma is gonna ring my neck. Let's head back inside." Standing up, Yohan dusted himself off, stretching his hand out towards Robin to take it. "You coming?"

"Yeah..." Robin took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled up.

Navigating through the crowd, they were welcomed by the warm embrace of the pub's air as they re-entered. Yohan scanned the room for his bandmates and quickly located them gathered around a small table, revelling in shared laughter and drinks. As they approached, Jemma's expression strained upon seeing them.

"Well, there you are. Quite conveniently, you missed all the hard work of packing up the gear. What a coincidence," she remarked sarcastically, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Sorry, I got caught up in conversation," Yohan apologised, rubbing the back of his head as he sat down between Jemma and Lucas. He glanced up at Robin. "Are you going to join us?"

"In a minute, I just need to nip to the loo," Robin replied, feeling a bit nervous under the collective gaze.

"Alright, I'll go grab us both another drink, cider, right?"

"Yeah, thanks..."

Turning around, Robin shuffled towards a sign that read 'Gents'. Scurrying in, he quickly locked himself in one of the free cubicles. After relieving himself quickly, Robin flushed, shut the lid and sat down with a clumsy stumble, placing his spinning head in his hands.

Jesus Christ, did we almost kiss early? What am I doing? What is he doing?

Rubbing his face with his hands, Robin realised it was hot and sweaty. His stomach lurched, dreading to think what he looked like in the mirror. Thinking about the events of the evening, his leg bounced up and down, and his breaths were heavy. 

He tried to think of all the times Yohan touched him throughout the evening; the brush of his hand against his face, his warm hands as he was holding his, his hands on his chest, his lips almost touching his... They couldn't have all been accidental, surely? There's no way.

How was he supposed to go back out there, sit around a table with his bandmates, and act as if nothing had happened? He had definitely already had too much to drink, but Yohan had just bought him another, and he was worried if he drank any more, he would be less able to control his actions.

Robin jumped, his already racing heart lurching into overdrive, as a relentless pounding began echoing through the cubical door, accompanied by the shouts of an unmistakably inebriated man. "Oi, some of us have to take a shit, yanno! Hurry up!"

"Sorry," Robin uttered meekly. He rose from the toilet seat, taking a deep breath, before unlocking the cubicle and stepping out into the bathroom.

As he contemplated whether he should just head home, Robin noticed Yohan at the table, enthusiastically downing shots of a clear liquid. The entire group cheered and banged on the table with each shot, creating an infectious energy.

"You're a beast, man!" Lucas hollered as Yohan took the fifth and final shot.

"Pure skill and talent!" Yohan's speech was slightly slurred as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Spotting Robin approaching, a broad grin spread across his face. "Robin, I thought you flaked on us! Come, come, sit down." Yohan pulled a stool from a nearby table and placed it between himself and Lucas.

"Thanks. What the hell are you drinking?" Robin inquired as he sat down, taking the fresh cider glass in his hand and sipping.

"Taaaquilllaaa," Yohan replied, leaning close to Robin's face as he playfully drew out the word.

"And you said I was a liability."

"Well, how the turn tables!" Yohan said, his speech muddled, hiccupping slightly.

As the night unfolded, the camaraderie among the group intensified. The flow of drinks continued, accompanied by lively conversations that exposed more layers of each member's life.

Robin delved into Lizzy's world, discovering that she was midway through her second year of a psychology degree. Engrossed in the shared passion for psychology, she exchanged anecdotes and insights into the course. She was intimidating but seemed to soften a little around her sharp edges as the night drew on.

Meanwhile, Lucas, the band's scraggly-bearded guitarist, became the target of friendly banter. The revelation that he, at the age of twenty-five, still lived in the comfort of his parent's home elicited a barrage of playful teasing from the rest of the table. Lucas shared with Robin that they used his parents' garage for band practice. Having initiated the band just the previous year, Lucas had connected with Lizzy through a mutual friend. When they sought a lead singer and bassist through a Facebook ad, Jemma reached out and recommended Yohan, who was familiar with his musical talents.

A noticeable transformation seemed to overcome Yohan's demeanour, manifesting in a shift from his familiar reserved self to an increasingly boisterous and lively character. The alcohol seemed to unlock a different facet of Yohan, one that contrasted sharply with the quiet and somewhat introverted persona Robin was accustomed to.

With each passing drink, Yohan shed his inhibitions and embraced the revelry of the moment. The once shy and reserved individual emerged from his shell, replaced by a more extroverted, uninhibited version of himself. His laughter echoed through the pub, and his gestures became more animated as if the alcohol had uncorked a wellspring of energy within him.

Robin, now nursing a glass of water, watched the unfolding transformation with a perplexed blend of amusement and astonishment. It felt as though the elixir within those glasses had summoned a more vibrant and exuberant version of Yohan. The reserved loner he knew had seemingly given way to a lively, talkative persona, actively participating in conversations around the table with contagious enthusiasm.

He's fucked...

As the evening progressed, the members of the table departed in dribs and drabs. Jemma got up to leave first, as her older brother was outside to pick her up. Soon after, Lizzy got up, saying she had an essay to finish over the weekend as she waved them off. Lucas' cousin had agreed to meet him at the pub to drive the van home as he'd drunk, and he eventually showed up, meaning it was time for him to leave also.

"I've stashed your bass in the van, Yohan. You can grab it tomorrow if you're up for it," Lucas informed, prompting a mumbled and slightly incoherent response from Yohan, who had his face pressed into his hand while leaning on the table.

Luca slapped him on the back, making him jolt forward. "Jesus, man, I'd offer you a lift home, but my cousin is already being a prick about picking me up. Are you alright to get him home, Robin? You seem like you've sobered up enough to look after this mess of a man."

"Um, sure, I think we live close by anyway," Robin responded.

"Fantastic! Nice meeting you, man! Feel free to swing by our next gig," Lucas said, winking at Robin and giving Yohan's hair a playful ruffle before heading towards the exit.

Robin got his phone out of his pocket.

Shit, it's ten-thirty

He had thirty minutes before his curfew, and he somehow needed to get Yohan home. He had mentioned they lived close to one another, but he didn't specify where.

Looking over at Yohan to ask him, Robin realised he was still resting his face on his hand, leaning on the table. His eyes were closed, letting his long eyelashes rest on the top of his flushed cheeks, which were slightly puffy.

Robin let his eyes wander over his face, taking in every little detail. He had a few moles dotted around his face. One sat just above the left corner of his soft, rosy lips, and another nestled between the arch of his thick, dark eyebrows, which added intensity to his gaze. The third mole adorned the side of his face, accentuating the sharp line of his angular jaw.

Robin shook Yohan gently. "Hey man, it's time to go home. Where do you live?"

Yohan grumbled with disdain at Robin's suggestion. "Nooo, I don't wanna go hommmmeee..." He struggled to open his eyes, giving Robin a lazy look. Suddenly, Yohan's body dropped from the hand supporting his head, and he leaned against Robin in a drunken sprawl. "I wanna stay with youuuuu."

Robin's whole body tensed up as he felt Yohan's heavy head resting on his shoulder. He glanced down and noticed one of Yohan's hands making its way towards Robin's midriff.

A sense of discomfort shot through Robin as Yohan's hand slipped under his tight T-shirt. He felt his body jolt upright when Yohan's hand made contact with his stomach. Swiftly, Robin attempted to stand up without letting Yohan fall to the floor, his hand slipping out from under his shirt as he pushed Yohan upright.

"Alright, alright, we definitely need to get you home! You're drunk!" Robin said, feeling incredibly flustered as he slipped on his jacket.

"Boooooo... I'm not drunk!" Yohan's lips pouted, looking towards him. His face shifted, letting a mischievous smile creep over his lips. "I'll go if you come with meeee?"

Okay... I know he's drunk. But I'm definitely not making it up now; he is 100% making a move on me.

"That's what I've been trying to say! I'm going to take you home. Where do you live?

Yohan's arms reached up towards the ceiling, making a round motion with his arms. "Biggggg flat's on the hill, Red...Redcliff," He hiccupped.

"Okay, okay, I think I know where that is. Let's get you out of here."

Managing to heave himself up from the chair, Yohan staggered towards Robin, lifting his arm and plonking it on Robin's shoulders. Robin grimaced slightly at the weight of Yohan's warm arms snaking around his neck, his hand dangling over his shoulder loosely. After a second to steady himself, Yohan leaned down to Robin's eye level, soft breaths rippling against Robin's cheek.

Feeling brave, Robin slipped his own hand behind Yohan and wrapped his arm around his waist. He felt Yohan's muscles tense at his touch, but he curled his fingers around the dip in Yohan's waist over the denim jacket, steadying him further as they slowly made their way out of the pub and into the warm night.