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The party was loud in the way college parties always were, too many voices layered over one another, laughter spilling out of the kitchen, someone yelling about cups that had mysteriously vanished. Warm string lights hung crooked along the walls, taped up with little regard for symmetry, bathing the room in a dim amber glow that made everything feel softer than it really was.
Charn stood near the edge of the living room, one hand wrapped around a plastic cup he’d barely touched. He adjusted his glasses absently as someone brushed past him, the bass from the speakers vibrating faintly through the floorboards.
He’d agreed to come because Jet had asked.
That was usually reason enough.
Still, Charn felt the familiar tension settle between his shoulders, the quiet overwhelm of too much noise, too many moving parts. He scanned the room more out of habit than intention, and then—
Jet.
Jet stood closer to the center of the room, half-turned toward a group of friends from their department. He looked relaxed in a way that still caught Charn off guard sometimes. The curse was gone, and even months later, Charn noticed the absence of it in moments like this, Jet’s laughter coming easier, his shoulders loose, his smile unburdened.
Jet laughed at something someone said, head tipping back slightly, and Charn felt that warm, embarrassing flutter bloom low in his chest.
Then Jet looked up.
Their eyes met.
The shift was immediate. Jet’s smile softened, turned personal, and he murmured something to the people around him before excusing himself. He crossed the room with unhurried confidence, weaving through bodies like he knew exactly where he was going.
“Hey,” Jet said when he reached Charn, leaning in just enough to be heard. “You okay?”
Charn nodded. “Yeah. Just… loud.”
Jet smiled fondly, like he’d expected that answer. “Yeah. Thought so.”
Before Charn could say anything else, the song changed.
The bass smoothed out, slower and heavier, the rhythm settling instead of surging. “Love in This Club” slid through the speakers, low and deliberate, the kind of song that didn’t demand attention so much as invite it.
Jet tilted his head slightly. “Oh. This one.”
Charn felt heat creep into his ears. “We don’t have to—”
Jet stepped closer, closing the gap easily, his voice dropping. “Dance with me.”
It wasn’t a question.
Charn hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding. Jet’s fingers brushed his wrist, gentle but sure, guiding him a few steps away from the thickest part of the crowd. Not to the center, Jet knew him better than that, but to the edge of the room, where the lights were softer and the noise blurred into something manageable.
Jet turned so his back faced Charn.
Charn blinked, surprised.
Then he stepped closer, hands hovering uncertainly before settling at Jet’s hips. Careful. Familiar. Like something he’d practiced in his head before ever daring to try.
Jet leaned back immediately.
Charn inhaled sharply, breath catching in his chest.
You say you’re searchin’ for somebody that’ll take you out and do you right…
Jet rolled his shoulders slowly with the beat, hips swaying just enough to set the rhythm. He didn’t rush it. Didn’t exaggerate. Just enough to guide.
“Come here,” Jet murmured.
Charn leaned down without thinking, he always forgot he was taller until moments like this. Jet noticed, smile deepening, and tilted his head just enough to speak directly into Charn’s ear.
“Well, come here, baby,” Jet whispered.
The lyric landed warm and deliberate.
Charn’s fingers tightened at Jet’s waist. “Jet…”
Jet laughed softly, the sound vibrating back through him. “You’re already flustered,” he teased. “We just started.”
He leaned back farther, trusting Charn to hold him there. Charn adjusted instinctively, arms settling more securely around Jet’s middle, chest close, breath warm against Jet’s neck.
Lookin’ in your eyes while you on the other side…
Jet tipped his head back again, making Charn lean down even more. “You remember,” Jet whispered, “when you wouldn’t even touch me in public?”
Charn huffed a quiet laugh. “That was different.”
“Mm,” Jet said. “Before the curse broke.”
Charn swallowed, then murmured, close to Jet’s ear, “I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared of what it meant.”
Jet went still for half a second.
Then he smiled, soft, unmistakably real.
If you didn’t know, you’re the only thing that’s on my mind…
Jet guided Charn’s hand flat against his chest, pressing it there so he could feel his heartbeat. “That part?” Jet whispered. “That’s not just the song.”
Charn flushed, but this time he didn’t pull away.
Instead, he leaned in closer, voice quieter but steadier. “You keep whispering things like that,” he murmured, “and I’m going to forget we’re at a party.”
Jet laughed under his breath. “That’s kind of the point.”
The chorus swelled, slow and lush.
I wanna make love in this club…
Jet didn’t sing it. He breathed it, lips brushing the shell of Charn’s ear.
Charn shivered.
“You’re bold tonight,” Charn murmured.
Jet tilted his head just enough to glance up at him. “Post-curse confidence,” he teased. “Feels earned.”
Charn smiled at that, warmth spreading through him. He swayed them gently now, letting himself guide the movement for once. It wasn’t flashy or perfect, but it was sure.
Jet noticed immediately.
“Oh,” Jet said softly. “There you are.”
Charn laughed, still flustered but braver now. “You’re not the only one who knows the words.”
Jet leaned back again, inviting it.
Charn leaned down and whispered, “And I don't care who's watching, watching, watching.”
Jet closed his eyes.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Exactly.”
They stayed like that as the song wound down, slow and unhurried, the party noise creeping back in only at the very end. When the music faded, Jet turned in Charn’s arms, facing him fully now.
“You okay?” Jet asked.
Charn nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah. Just… glad it’s you.”
Jet’s expression softened completely. “Always.”
He pressed a quick, gentle kiss to Charn’s cheek, nothing showy, nothing rushed. Just theirs.
Around them, the party kept going.
But near the edge of the room, wrapped together in dim light and shared whispers, Charn and Jet stayed close, moving slow enough to remember how far they’d come, and close enough to believe they’d be okay wherever they went next.