SAIFAH WAS NOT A PERSON WHO HATED MANY THINGS, but making conscious decisions was one of them. Whenever there was more at stake than his own content, whenever he could not simply go with the flow, and other people were concerned as well, he only hated the process more.

Today, he felt intimidated by it to a ridiculous extent.

The shelf in front of him dazzled with its variety of options, a rich kaleidoscope of colours and flavours. There were well-known brands at the top, cheaper at the bottom, paprika on the left, seaweed on the right, prawn, cheese, salty, onion...The bags of chips multiplied in front of his eyes, giving him a headache.

With a small grunt, he took a step back and crossed his arms. Overchoice was a real thing, and since it was not just for him and Zon, such a trivial matter like choosing snacks turned into an actual nightmare. He peeked at the wine in the basket and sighed. How come, one choice made the next one only harder? Usually, he would have gone for chilli paprika, but did paprika match the wine?

What if someone brought some too?

What if others did not like spicy flavours?

And what if Zon's friends ended up hating him, and he'd become like a third wheel to the group with whom he was supposed to spend a whole evening?

He froze. Wow. That was not something he had expected. Dumbfounded with the core of his problem, he now wished to go back in time, clone himself and wait for that exact day in the future, only to smack himself in the head as hard as possible. Of course, he was anxious about it! It was normal. He might have known Zon pretty well now and had been friends with Tutor and Fighter for years, but it did not guarantee that he would easily fit in their group dynamics!

What a stupid problem, he thought and gave up on over-analyzing flavours. Listening to some inside jokes he would never understand was not his favourite activity, and the mere thought of being set aside made his stomach churn. That was true. But the fact was, people were going to eat whatever there was, anyway, and no matter the choice, it would not change whether or not he would blend in.

A quick glance into his wallet made the decision even easier. When he opened it, there was only a single note with the king's portrait mocking him for spending so much time in the store aisle. He scooped up two bags from the bottom shelf and turned his steps to the register. Fighter would have to suck it up.

The bottles clinked with each step as he marched down the corridor of Zon's condominium. His mind was constantly buzzing with unwanted thoughts, and the chinking in the plastic bag only added to his dread over the state of the snacks. How come had he never been this stressed before? It made little sense. He stopped in front of the black door and took a deep breath. He was not going to let this irrational fear destroy his evening.

He knocked. This time, the door swung open in a flash, not even giving him the chance to feel the shadow of worry whether or not Zon was there.

"Why didn't you use the key?" he heard as soon as their eyes met, and a smile blossomed on his face. What was he so worried about again?

"I wasn't sure if the guys were already here," he said, putting the bags down. "It'd be weird to see me opening the locks like at my own house, don't you think?"

Ignoring Zon's half-sneer, he leaned down to place a light peck on his lips and purred a husky, "Hi," letting his gaze wander. His eyes slid along the edge of Zon's clean-shaven jaw, glided down the soft skin of his firm neck, bounced from the dip of the clavicle and trailed all the way through the chest, right to—

Blue shorts? He frowned. "Zon, you're not by any chance thinking of going in this, are you?"

Zon shot his gaze down. "Hey, I was about to change when you knocked!"

"You were texting me for the past 15 minutes!" Saifah shook his head, letting his amusement shine brighter. "You had plenty of time to do that!"

He shouldn't be surprised anymore, honestly. Rather than that, it should surprise him to see the room in a state much cleaner than on the day before. When he put the wine into the fridge, he noticed that the laminate floor had been mopped, the dishes done, and the bed—which got him the most!—made. On top of that, with a fresh, sun-and-moon themed bedding. Heck, even the trash bin, with evidence from last night, got meticulously thrown out! For someone who was not as frequent a guest as Saifah was, it might have passed as an everyday state, but he was not to be fooled. Zon had tried to make his room look presentable—with little effort seen—to those few guests coming before the drag show.

While Zon covered his sweet ass with nicely-cut blue jeans, Saifah plopped down on the bed and peeked at the white T-shirt, phone and a book next to him. 'So that's what he was up to, huh?' he thought, flipping through the pages. If he asked, he would probably hear it was part of a "research", although he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with one. Well, as long as Zon believed his own excuses, right?

Saifah glanced at the man and grinned at the gentle arch of his back now being uncovered.

"You've got a hickey next to Cassiopeia," he said, trying to sound as deadpan as he could. To be fair, he did not remember the exact moment of its creation, but he found it fascinating. If that skin peppered with moles reminded him of the negative of the night sky, the hickey had to be a Nebula.

Zon whirled around, his T-shirt wrapped around his forearms. "A...where?"

"Cassiopeia. Beneath the right shoulder blade." Zon's raised eyebrow was a sign that Saifah could have spoken Alien, and his understanding would have been the same. "Your moles," he snickered. "You've got at least five different constellations on your back. Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Phoenix under the ribs, Libra in the middle and Aquarius near the neck. Yes, I've learned some new ones to connect the dots." He winked.

Zon might have seemed unimpressed—a light headshake was the only reaction he gave—but Saifah saw right through him; it was hard to ignore those small sparkles dancing around his dark eyes. "I can't believe you gave me a hickey," he said, instead. "Like some horny teenager!"

"Let's say your back needed another galaxy."

"You're sick."

"You've meant sickening, yes?"

He truly loved how easily he was able to make Zon smile. Even when the latter rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose at the same time.

"Listen." Zon shot him another look. "I know I have freckles all over my back, but there's no need to make fun of it."

"I'm not, believe me!" he said truthfully. "It's sexy."

It really was. He could stargaze that small universe for hours and then stargaze about it as well. If anything, the fact that the rest of Zon's body barely had freckles anywhere else, made that particular part of him only more fascinating.

Just as expected, his comment got ignored yet again. Zon pulled his shirt down and changed the topic, but his eyes hadn't moved from Saifah even for a second. "I don't understand," he said sourly, albeit his voice being laced with amusement, "why are we meeting at my place. I don't recall agreeing to any of that."

"Easy. You live the closest to the bar. Plus,"—Saifah rubbed his mouth, trying not to give away his growing smile—"otherwise, you'd be late. Chances were better you'd wait home ready...Or at least, that's what I thought before coming here and seeing you, well...not ready."

Zon gasped, his hand on his heart. "Wow! I take my question back, you traitor! And,"—he pointed his finger at Saifah's chest—"you'd better shut up, or I'll shush you."

"Mm, dare you."

His voice came off huskier than he intended, but it did not matter. As he watched Zon stepping in his direction, he forgot how to even form a single word; Zon's pupils were flaring, eyebrows raised, and teeth held his heart-shaped mouth from splitting into laughter. He might have not been intimidating at all, but he most definitely knew how to take Saifah's breath away. Especially with that gleaming gaze that—

Bzzz. The sound of the intercom cut in between, making both of them jolt.

"You're lucky they're here." Zon jerked his chin up and went to buzz the guests in with a flimsy smile.

Yeah, very lucky indeed. Saifah let the air out and pulled himself into a sitting position. A quick rub of his face and his casually friendly smile got restored. Fingers crossed that it was not Soda and Junior, as he was not ready yet to face sort-of-strangers, his insides rearranged into a tangled mess.

It was not. The flat filled up with Tutor's crisp voice telling Fighter "to cut that shit out"—whatever that shit was—and Zon's fumbling trials to get the food they had brought into his hands. He seemed to manage—with a big carrier bag and a desperate look in his eyes, he popped back into the room and motioned Saifah to follow him to the kitchen.

He looked tired already.

The bag landed on the counter, and Zon leaned against it with his eyes closed.

"Bear, wash hands first!" Tutor kept ordering his boyfriend, and for a second, Saifah felt guilty for siding with everyone to hold that before-party at Zon's. Or at least, he wished for the guy to feel comfortable in his own home, regardless.

He peeked into the bedroom and gave Zon a gentle nudge. "Every time I hear Tutor calling him that," his voice sank to a conspiratorial whisper, "I'm dying to know what strangers think Fighter looks like."

Just as he suspected, Zon's face reddened as a few chuckles slipped through the fingers covering his mouth. "I hate you," he muttered, returning the nudge.

The laughter fizzed in their bellies for a moment longer, warming their insides like sparkling wine on a chilly night. Even if it was just for a moment, Zon seemed at ease now, and Saifah had to admit—he liked that look on his face. Incredibly so.

With a self-content smile, he reached the top shelf for a bowl, and Zon took care of the food in the bag. There were at least a dozen small containers, each offering a new experience for their noses. As it turned out, while Saifah had bought the cheapest chips in the shop, Fighter and Tutor brought a whole feast for their palate. There was spicy mango dip for the vegan shrimps, carrot fries baked in parmesan and garlic, some satay tofu skewers with peanut sauce, something that smelled like almonds and a lot of green paste that Saifah was not even sure of. All of it was alluring with its vibrant colours and aromas as rich as the dishes appeared to be.

Flabbergasted, they glanced at each other, jaws dropped.

"I guess two pizzas will do then," murmured Zon.

"Glad I went with wine, not beer," nodded Saifah.

One thing was sure, it was not the quality they were used to.

Grabbing as many plates as they could, they returned to the room. The other two were on the couch, waiting in their flashy Hawaiian shirts—Fighter in a blue one, exposing his tanned muscles, and Tutor in an identical red one, buttoned all the way up—causing yet another exchange of looks between him and Zon. If Saifah had yet not felt plain in his simple black T-shirt and black jeans, it had changed now. To make everything worse, the couple was back in their world of eyebrows' flickers and flirtatious smirks, indifferent to the other people in the room.

No matter how long Saifah had known them, it still amazed him how fast their mood was changing—one second they were at each other's throats, and the second they were at each other's throats, but with kisses. He was not sure which option was worse.

Fortunately, seeing them coming, they cut out their flirting. Tutor moved his eyes to Zon, watching him pour the wine into mismatched mugs—one with van Gogh's Starry Night, one with Darth Vader, and two with funny quotes from Doctor Who—and cringed as slightly as he could.

Meanwhile, his boyfriend dove into the sea of chips and munching on a mouthful of chips, asked, "Zon, why didn't you tell us you have someone?"

Three pairs of eyes snapped towards Fighter in a flash.

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

His voice was matter-of-fact, almost toneless, yet it made Saifah's heart stop. And he was sure Zon was as still as a statue too.

"What? I saw the toothbrushes on the sink." Fighter pointed at the bathroom, his eyes piercing. "Why hide? We're all cool with that, right? So, who is it?"

Saifah felt as if someone sucked all the air out of the room, scared to even peek at Zon. The buzz in his brain looked for excuses, but truth be told, he knew it was better to stay silent.

But before Zon had a chance to react, it was Tutor who spoke out. "Come on, Bear! It's Zon we're talking about! He never lets people keep their things here!"

Saifah took a chance to steal a glance at his left. Zon's hands were clenching the mug, his eyes wide open. He looked as if he had just escaped death, and remembering his reaction during the engagement party, Saifah was not surprised.

"Remember Arisa?" Tutor kept on rambling. "She broke up with him when he didn't allow her to leave a towel here. I don't know—"

"Wait, that's not how it was, that was just the tip of—"

"—how long he'd have to be in a relationship with someone to let them sleep at his place, let alone have a toothbrush!"

Wait, really? Saifah snapped back at Tutor, while Zon groaned.

"It's not how it was with Arisa," he repeated, his jaw set. "But yeah, I don't have anyone now. That stupid toothbrush is the spare one I used for cleaning, that's all. I just forgot to throw it out, gee."

Whilst he sounded irritated, Saifah knew it was just a cover. Zon massaged the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, and the way he threw Saifah a quick glance seemed like an apology for the whole commotion. Not that Saifah would mind if people knew, honestly—it did not mean anything, not really, and they were all adults. Who cared? It just wasn't an ideal situation for anyone to clue in.

Plus, he was not sure if Zon felt the same way.

"Then how about that hoodie?" Fighter destroyed the impression that the crisis had been averted when he picked up a piece of fabric left on the desk chair. Saifah's worn-out mustard-yellow piece of fabric left on a desk chair. "It's kinda big for you, am I wrong?"

Saifah shut his eyes, overflown by a terrible hunch. He had to give Fighter one—he had eagle eyes and a passion for missing the mood.

Zon started to stutter, his gaze locked at the piece of fabric. "That's...It's...Well...that hoodie is Zen's. Yes, Zen's! He left it the last time." He huffed, adding speed to his words, "And besides, it's just a hoodie, right? Who cares about proper size, hm? Don't you know I often wear oversize ones, too?"

"Yeah, but it's not exactly your style," said Fighter with his drilling stare.

Neither was it Saifah's, if anyone had asked, but it was a part of his home-wear when the A/C blew too hard. And he was not going to say that out loud.

Once again, it was Tutor, who cut in before anyone else could, his voice clipped. "Figh. Knock it off. Instead of focusing on Zon's 'décor', you'd better fill my glass. It's been empty for a good couple of minutes."

Fighter's thick eyebrows twitched up, yet he did as he was told without hesitation, and Saifah noticed the small, comforting smile Tutor sent to Zon behind his back. "So, where are the others?" he asked, grabbing the refill his boyfriend had brought him.

"Soda and Junior should be here any second," Zon's voice was threaded with the same amount of tension as relief, "and Zen went with Nathee, so we'll meet him there." He flopped on the bed, next to Saifah, slowly letting his shoulders round up. "Since Soda is vegetarian too, I thought you two could share one pizza, and the rest of us will have a normal, meat one, whaddya think?"

"Sure, why not." Tutor patted his boyfriend's knee and smiled. "Bears are omnivores, no matter how much I wish this one wasn't."

As the conversation shifted to the pizza toppings, it was certain that the crisis was averted, and relief swept over Saifah. It was a close shave, it really was—even if he was not the one in question. But what would Zon do if they find out? Would he tell them the truth? Asked them to keep it a secret? Or perhaps he would end it all so as not to tempt fate anymore, too worried that Neo would learn it all one day too?

He chugged his wine, clueless about why all that stress swirled around him for a moment. The alcohol went down, pushing his heart through the throat back to its original place, and a boost of anaesthesia spread throughout his body. Thank the universe that Zen was only a few centimetres shorter than Saifah's gigantic—as Zon had once said—height! And probably a good thing that he was not here, leaving the margin of doubt intact.

Saifah glanced at Zon, half-listening to the conversation. In some way, Zon was always surrounded by guys nearly a head taller than him; Saifah, Zen, Neo...Almost as if he found some masochistic pleasure in his perfectly average height being towered over.

Well, he most definitely had masochistic tendencies when it came to being around Neo anyway.

The intercom buzzed again and this time it was Soda and Junior. For a fraction of a second, Saifah was petrified—what if the couple was as lovely-dovey as Fighter and Tutor? He did not want to think, how weirder the atmosphere would get.

Luckily, they were not. Not even close.

"I can't believe I'm here for the first time, dude! Haven't you always hung out at Soda's?" Junior checked out Zon's bedroom in a not-even-remotely subtle manner. "How come you've never invited us here?"

"Oh, I don't know," sneered Zon. "Maybe 'cause this is clearly a one-person studio flat?"

"It's a lovely place, Zon. Very cosy." Soda sent him an apologetic smile. "And how clean! Am I right, Junior?" She peeked at her boyfriend, who was already too busy with a vegan shrimp to notice. "You heard me, babe? Maybe you should ask your friend how he does it, hm? It's not that much smaller than yours after all."

"Hm?" Junior raised his head with a mouthful of food. "Oh yes, yes. I like smaller spaces too."

Saifah had to purse his lips not to crack up at that whole interaction. Zon's place, clean! Ha, that was a good one. He peeked at Zon, amused, only to notice the guy getting smaller and smaller at Soda's compliment. If not for Junior's loud groan, his embarrassment would have made him as small as a speck of dust.

"Wine? Seriously?!" exclaimed Junior seeing the bottle on the table. "Where's beer for a real man like me?!"

Fighter scoffed, arching his eyebrow. "If you wanted beer, why didn't you buy some?"

"I wanted to, but Soda said that if we don't take wine, you'd—OUCH!" He looked down at Soda's elbow digging in his ribs. "Hey, what's that for?"

Junior was exactly how Saifah had remembered from Neo's engagement party, and that was what they needed to forget about the toothbrush and the hoodie, and to make the atmosphere much lighter, without the use of alcohol. Although that, in the end, came in handy as well.

Two bottles of wine and way more pizza than they should later, they changed their location to the bar, ready for the main event, and now, surrounded by the whole gang, Saifah realised that somewhere along the way he had stopped being worried about blending in. All of them were so easy to hang out with; all of them treated him like their own. For a moment, intoxicated with booze and laughter and Zon's glittering eyes, he had even forgotten he was not part of their group, not really.

Why, the heck, through all the years of his friendship with Tor, Fighter and Neo, had he never met any of them? Not even once, in passing?

They might have been a lot, for sure, but it was more than appreciated from time to time, and the overall atmosphere was so light and warm and fuzzy that he couldn't stop smiling. They never made him feel awkward, not even for a moment, not even when they teased him, and most definitely not when he tried to tease them back. On the contrary, it was more than encouraged, backed-up with outbursts of drunken giggles and hands slamming against the table, against the knees, against his back.

And only once had the topic touched upon Neo's wedding, and he had reached to brush Zon's knee, and it might have lit Zon's eyes with surprise, but he wanted, no!, he needed to remind him that he was not alone, that he was there, next to him, knowing his feelings, knowing the whole picture. That although he could not do anything else at the moment, he was there, ready to stop him from any sorrow, ready to send a comforting thought.

And he truly hoped that Zon realised the meaning of that gentle nudge, too, because seeing him sad was the last thing Saifah wanted, either now or ever. Because seeing him sad was something Saifah absolutely hated.

Because seeing him sad was something Saifah hated maybe even more than making a conscious decision.

***

"Lemme get this right—"

Zon leaned in, along with everyone else, their breaths bated. If Saifah nailed it, they would get him a free shot. If he failed, it would be him buying a round for all seven of them. Needless to say, it made the group await his answer like a committee of vultures.

"You, you and you,"—Saifah scanned across them, pointing at Zon, Tutor and Junior—"were together in one high school, yes? And you,"—now, he pointed at Zen—"met Zon and Junior at uni, meanwhile Tor and Neo—his voice faltered slightly—studied with me, yes?"

A heartbeat of silence preceded an outburst of cheers. Saifah got it right.

"Now, bring in your generous donations for the winner! Chop-chop, it's only one shot."

The wave of joy rose again as they chipped in for a single Blow Job and grew even louder when a bit of whipped cream stuck to Saifah's mouth. The sight made Zon laugh so badly that he almost fell off his seat.

"Speaking of Blow Jobs,"—Zen clapped his hands—"y'all must try Glory Hole now!"

"Wha—"

"Thai, a round of Glory Hole here!" He waved at the bartender, shrugging off their concerns. Apparently, the pace of their drinking had to be maintained. Even if the name didn't sound very appealing.

The shots came flaming, with a neon green dash across the clear liquid. On 3-2-1, they downed them at once, and the raging fire went down Zon's throat. Just as he thought, it had to be almost pure vodka. His twisted features could have bet on it. The heat spread even further the second he met with Saifah's warm smile. He smiled back, a tingling sensation spreading in all his cells.

Hopefully, Saifah was as comfortable with the guys as they were with him.

And they were; their actions were more than clear to Zon. Junior engaged Saifah in conversation all the time, Soda translated whenever he got carried away with his mental shortcuts, and Zen simply smiled and asked questions, ready to know Saifah better. Seeing all that made Zon's heart swell. If he was anxious, even for a second, that they—whether consciously or not—would look at Saifah's presence as a foreign element, he was wrong. So, so wrong.

"Wait." Saifah raised his finger, frowning. "I understand that Soda met y'all when she started dating Junior—"

"Unfortunately," she chimed in, giggling.

"—But what about Nathee?"

"He's just my roommate." Zen shrugged as if he wasn't speaking about his biggest crush. "We met him maybe a year ago."

"But he's a really cool guy! Like, the coolest!" Junior rushed with this assurance so hastily and so eagerly, it brought a few confused blinks from Saifah that did not go unnoticed.

"They have a weird bond," explained Zon, his voice matter-of-fact.

"Like twins separated at birth," nodded Tutor.

"That one brain cell they have?" said Soda. "They share it."

"Honestly." Zen looked at Saifah with mock seriousness. "I've no idea what it'd be if Junior was into guys."

Loud peals of laughter followed their words, only Junior didn't find it just as funny. "Ha-ha. Assholes," he sneered, knitting his brows. "If I was into guys, you all would play Hunger Games to get me!"

And that, obviously, triggered only more laughs.

"Oh, honey." Soda brushed his cheek. "At least you can dream big, right?"

The lights flickered, turning their attention away from Junior's pout. It was finally time for Nathee's show. From a hubbub of the banter, their voices descended into a hush, excitement sending them into thrills. Zon could nearly see Zen's heart jumping out of his chest, right under the stage, and he almost felt nervous too. But there was nothing to worry about, he knew that. Nathee was capable of blowing away the audience just fine.

And he was not wrong. Candee, dressed in a big red wig and an orange pin-up dress, turned out to be a hit. She danced to Madonna's Material Girl, sent the whole bar into stitches numerous times—either with jokes, faces or movements—and left the stage after an emotional lip-sync to Total Eclipse of the Heart. There was no end to the thunderous applause and whistles and screams—although Zon was pretty sure that it was mostly their table that went completely nuts with their encouragement.

"I didn't know Nathee can sing so well!" exclaimed Junior, giving a standing ovation. No one rushed to correct him, though; only Tutor, after noticing Saifah's parting lips, shook his head and mouthed 'Let him be'.

While the rest of them was quite agitated after the show, Zen was sitting still, his gaze locked on the now-empty stage. Zon smiled, his eyes riveted on him. Although he couldn't see his friend's face, he had a rough idea about what was happening in Zen's head from the tension in his muscles. For Zon, he had to be replaying those fleeting images of Nathee's performance, over and over again. This time in his heart. Just to be sure, it was engraved there forever.

With a soft chuckle, he wrapped his arms around Zen's neck and whispered, "Go to him, dummy."

Zen twitched, snapped from his sequin dream. "What—"

"Go. Congratulate him." This time Zon repeated it loud enough for the rest to hear. "I bet he's dying to know how you liked it."

"He's busy, I don't want to—"

"Just go!" It was the unanimous command of the entire group that made Zen jump to his feet. His steps were fumbling; the resemblance to the foal learning how to walk more than striking. A few times, Zon could have sworn Zen was going to give up and retreat. But he did not. Thanks to their thumbs up (and, arguably, Fighter flexing his glare), he waded through the bar and disappeared backstage.

Their mission was complete.

Everyone was back to their conversations while Zon nursed his sweet pineapple-rum cocktail with a smile on his lips. The lights danced around, flickering on the glasses' rims, and his friends' voices smeared his soul with honey and warmth. Sure, he was not the biggest fan of going out and unbridled partying. But sitting and talking with his closest friends was fun, whether in the comfort of one's home or in this ludicrous place.

Okay, he actually liked this bar. He liked the cheesy pop songs they played, he liked their drink menu, and he definitely liked that nice bartender giving them discounts. He also liked how Tor and Soda exchanged their recipes, and how Fighter and Junior argued about sport or work, although why would they argue about work, and where did Saifah's voice fade away, since he had been part of the conversation just a second ago...?

Concerned, he glanced to his right. Saifah was still there. He did not move, silently playing with the golden reflections in his whisky sour, tilting the glass back and forth. He was so immersed in his thoughts, so pensive, that Zon felt a trace of anxiety rushing through his veins. With Zen, he knew what was going on immediately. Here? He had no clue. Was it all—the show, the people, maybe even the place—too much for Saifah? Did Fighter and Tutor not provide enough sense of familiarity to make him feel comfortable?

He licked his lips, suddenly feeling parched. A few strands of hair fell onto Saifah's forehead and stuck to his long eyelashes, but Zon fought the urge to brush them aside.

Instead, he touched his arm. "Are you having fun?"

He was ready to search for the answer in Saifah's eyes, but he was not ready to see them shining brighter than the disco ball above the scene.

"I am!"

"Listen, I know the guys can be a lot and—"

Saifah shook his head, his smile growing. "Zon, stop! Everyone's great!"

His soft chuckle made Zon feel the wave of relief. All he wanted was for everyone to get along, and while he could tell that the others were okay with Saifah, he was yet not sure if it was reciprocated. The group was sometimes hard to handle; Zon knew that. They were loud and heedless, often going too far with teasing and no-filter jokes. So even if he saw Saifah trying to keep up with Junior's jest, joining everyone to poke at Zen's crush and being truly captivated by the show, he could not get rid of that sliver of fear, that it was only a mask. That in reality, Saifah was—to some degree, of course—repelled by their behaviour.

Yet now, looking Saifah in the eyes, Zon was sure—he was not lying. He truly liked Zon's friends. And that was greatly reassuring.

"We're back!" Zen's merry voice reached them from behind, a tone that mismatched his bashful smile. He neared the table with Candee next to him, which only caused the excitement to rise again.

"Nathee! You were gorge!"

"The show was a blast!"

"Gurl, those splits!"

Compliments flowed out of their mouth with the gracefulness of a bulldozer, but she didn't seem to mind. On the contrary. She fiddled with her crystal earring like a humble maiden and said, "You really think I was good?" Her coy voice was as fake as her boobs. "I was worried my dress might be too basic,"—as if the sequins and a bow bigger than her head could ever be called basic—"or that my make-up was as plain as a hooker's, but if you say I was fine..." The way she batted her eyelashes was a clear hint.

A hint that Tutor caught in no time. "Of course, you were! That guy over here,"—he pointed at Junior—"couldn't take his eyes off of you!"

"Facts. His jaw was dropped," Soda followed his footsteps.

"Actually, he said, you're such a babe." Saifah grinned, adding to arising giggles. "He might have a crush on you."

Once again, the group was sent into fits of laughter whilst Junior shot his finger at all of them, his eyebrows raised. "Ha-ha," he sneered. "Joke's on you, but if he looked like that all the time, I wouldn't even hesitate. Come on, just look at that sexy fox!"

As the amusement turned into awe, Candee circled the table and scratched Junior's chin. "Be careful, Soda-honey. If he keeps saying that, I might steal your man."

"Steal him?" Soda's rippling laughter shot out of her mouth as Candee settled on Junior's lap. "Darling, I'll pay you to take him!"

"Deal and..." Before the guy had any chance to protest, Candee kissed him, leaving a big lipstick mark on the middle of his cheek. "Sealed!" she exclaimed, making him gasp in horror.

"Wait, stop the trading!"

"Too late! Now, we need to celebrate my new purchase!" She winked at Soda and raised her hand, smiling. "Thai, shots on me here! I got a man tonight!"

With Nathee's help, the rest of the night was just a runaway train of fun, laughter, drinks and lipstick marks, and the pace sped up even more. It was so fast and so full of glitter now that Zon lost count of all the shots they did, and he even lost himself. He lost himself in that never-ending roundabout of banter that warmed his insides more than the liquor itself. He didn't want to miss any of the moments; he wanted to be part of them and understand them all, switching between the conversations as fast as he could. But then his mind got fuzzy, and everything started to blur, all the sentences sounding like the ones he already heard before, so he knew the case was lost too. And in the end, it did not really matter.

He reclined in his chair and looked around.

The bar was full. Full of an ocean of men, ebbing and flowing throughout the place. With a colourful crowd of all types of men, with men laughing and talking and drinking and kissing...Men in flashy shirts and tight jeans. Men with muscles so big they were almost ripping off their clothes. Men of so many types, he would dream about some of them. Men of so many types there just had to be one for everyone.

"Huh." He bit his lip. There had to be one for everyone.

Blinking himself out of his thoughts, he took a big swing, suddenly dizzy with his own idea. Why didn't he think of it sooner? Wibbly-wobbly after the turn, he leaned towards Saifah and grabbed his arm. A few sparks blazed under his fingers as he tried to keep his balance, Saifah's eyes on him. It was weird how, suddenly, he was aware of the softness of Saifah's T-shirt and how hard his shoulder felt in contrast, too.

He must have been really, really drunk.

"Hey, you," he said, smiling. "See anyone you fancy?" Saifah blinked at him, confused. What was so hard to understand? "In the bar. There's like plenty of hot guys."

"Agreed, but—"

"If you want, you could go and pick someone up. I don't mind. You don't have to stay with us until the end, y'know?"

He truly wished for Saifah to find someone. He really did. Saifah was a great guy, and he deserved all the happiness there was. And although Zon did not want to push him into some stupid alloromantic bullshit, he knew how much Saifah wanted a relationship.

And if chatting with someone here helped him, Zon did not mind. Whether it was going to be flirting for real or only for one night.

But as Saifah scanned the crowd, a small frown on his forehead, Zon felt his heart speeding up to an unusual rate. Did he perhaps see someone he liked...?

"Nah." Saifah shook his head, turning to him with a grin. "I came with you guys, and I'm happy to stay with you. Friends first, right?"

"Right." Zon did not even notice that he was holding his breath, but as the verdict was given and the air left his mouth, a beaming smile reached his eyes and dimples appeared on his face. For some reason, those words filled him with the comfort of fresh bedding and the warmth of summer walks. A mix tasting like orange juice and moonlight scorching his skin.

Saifah's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, sending his body into a gentle buzz. "Why'd you ask?"

He shrugged. "Just to remind you, you can always try to seek romance the old-fashioned way too."

His words floated around like a magnetic breeze, crashing against them with the lunar tides. Saifah deserved to get what he wanted, he truly did. But having Saifah next to him all evening long felt—although pretty selfish—much, much better.

Like having the Sun hanging in the night sky.

His footsteps were light against the pavement, the stars shining above his head. The night was so silent and peaceful, only the rustle of trees in the gentle breeze...And those endless outbursts of giggles, every time Zon turned around and saw Saifah dancing with the wind. But he couldn't stop himself. Not even if he wanted to. Not when Saifah's lanky limbs lived their own life, not when Saifah looked like a giant stick-insect on a frying pan.

One thing was sure, though—he could not dance.

And neither could Zon. Nor the moonlight, nor the leaves on the branches of the trees, but what surely could, was their merry laughter, twirling around the streets in the most vigorous pirouettes. It followed them through all the streets and mingled with the shuffling of their feet. Zon wished to stop both of the sounds when they walked through the stairway of his building, but it was not easy—they just leapt out of his mouth alongside muffled snorts, whether he wanted it or not.

And when Saifah tripped over that one doormat in the hallway and made more noise than it was ever possible, Zon had to cover his mouth and pray.

"Shshhhh..." He put a finger to his lips. "You'll wake my ne'bough's..."
Saifah just straightened up, as if nothing had happened, and sent him a (what was supposed to be a flirtatious) wink. "Sorry 'bout that..."

"Your legs are too long..." said Zon, delving in his pocket.

"Your tongue's too long." Saifah's arms wrapped around him like an octopus, making it only harder to put the key into the hole. For some reason, no matter how he held it—up or down—it did not match, and Saifah's lips on his neck were far from helping.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the lock got opened, and they, tripping over their feet, stumbled inside the flat. Zon twisted in Saifah's arms and smiled, his heart hammering in his chest. Saifah's face was smeared with shocking pink lipstick, his hair a total mess, eyes shining with a million stars, and those sexy plump lips asking for a kiss. And if they asked...well, so it shall be then.

He grabbed Saifah's neck and pulled him in, granting its wish.

Sloppy and moist was the act, no finess in it at all, but they were too drunk to care, kissing like there was no tomorrow. Eyes half-open, one hand deep into Saifah's hair, one clenched around his shirt—Zon felt dazed.

His taste buds kept tingling with the distinctive taste of whiskey and lemon, even after Saifah pinned him to the wall and broke the kiss. He leaned against Zon, his breath steady and deep, and Zon closed his eyes, letting his mind spin around its axis too. The coolness of the wall might have been a pleasant contrast, but Zon tugged his arms around and drew Saifah closer. He could feel Saifah's racing heartbeat and the reek of alcohol mixed with his body scent—a fragrance that should not be as intoxicating as it was for Zon. He nuzzled into his shoulder more and bit his lip.

He did not know how long they stood there, Saifah with his head pressed to the wall, Zon trapped in the frame of his body. It could've been five minutes or ten thousand years, he would not know—not before Saifah took a deep breath and snuggled against his body harder.

"What 'm I doin' here?" he asked, his hot breath sweeping over Zon's ear. "That's not my place..."

But all Zon could do was to shrug and shake his head. He did not remember why Saifah followed him either; he did not question it even for a second. But it was something so natural and obvious, it did not actually need an answer.

Zon wiped the saliva off of his own face. "Lessgo to bed," he mumbled and gently pushed Saifah away, who followed him without a word, but with a slight hiccup instead.

A moment later, they both slid into bed, two glasses of water on the table next to it. The world was still spinning, both of them panting. How much did they drink, Zon did not know, and he was not able to think. He just wanted to sleep.

He had already turned on his side with his eyes closed when Saifah hugged him in a tight embrace. "Thanks," he whispered to Zon and placed a loud and wet kiss on his cheek.

Zon could swear he asked 'What for?', but the answer never came, and before he realised that he had never opened his mouth, Saifah had already turned back, his breath deeper than ever.

Only the wet mark on Zon's cheek proved that it was not a dream.

~ · ~

AUTHOR'S NOTE
This chapter was born in agony, written in no time and in the editing phase for almost three weeks XD Well, I hope it works the way I wanted it and y'all enjoyed it a lot, especially the moments of banter between the group.

Also, please never hesitate to tell me if you have any critique. If anyone follows me on Twitter, you probably saw my "discussion" with the author of MaiJade's book, which only made me realise even more that I really do not want my readers to hide if they think something didn't work. I am very open to any kind of feedback, whether positive or not and if I ever suggested otherwise, if I ever sounded defensive, if I ever sounded like I was displeased with any comment (OneWing, I'm looking at you and our condoms discussion), please do forget and tell me any critique you ever feel like telling. :)
I promise I'll take it well, although I might want you to elaborate on some things XD

Anyway...
Who do you think will realise he has feelings for the other? Zon or Saifah? :)

PLAYLIST
(Today's playlist is gonna be in the vibe of Zon's book, so yes, that is the vibe of his book xD)
The Smiths: "This Charming Man", "There is a light that never goes out", "Bigmouth strikes again", "How Soon Is Now" etc. (I've only added "How Soon Is Now" cause that's the first song of the Smiths  I've fallen in love with, because of Charmed when I was a kiddo xD)
The Cure: "Forest"
Bauhaus: "Bela Lugosi's Dead", "She's in Parties"
Joy Division: "Transmission", "Disorder"
Placebo: "The Bitter End", "Sleeping with Ghost", "My Sweet Prince", "Infra-Red"
Depeche Mode: "Wrong", "I feel you", "Personal Jesus", "People are people"
Muse: "Sunburn" (this kinda doesn't fit exactly, but it's one of my fav songs ever and it fits the vibe of the story)

Okay, it's getting out of hand, but I think you get the idea of the vibe pretty much. And I won't even say how tempted I am to develop the idea of Zon's book properly into an actual book, as I already have like... 4 characters in my head, a clear image of them. XD

Also, another inspiration to the idea of it was this song from the FanMeeting of WHYRU, so I'll paste it here as well xD

https://youtu.be/3cNd7ZctEV4