Chapter One: Not Built To Collapse

Regaining consciousness like this always felt like trekking through a room that had been blasted with a smoke grenade, the piercing pain in his left temple reminiscent of a flashbang. He was far too familiar with this sort of waking, and he knew from experience that he needed to ease into it.

He didn't open his eyes first, instead, he tested the movement of his fingers, and counted each one.

One, two, three, four....

…seven, eight, nine, ten.

All ten fingers accounted for. It meant his arms were intact and functional. He would test out the soreness later.

He wiggled his toes and flexed his ankles.

Good. No nerve damage, at least.

His mouth was dry, his throat parched.

He focused on his hearing next and concentrated on the mechanical beeping that kept time with the beating of his heart.

Where was he? A hospital? A safe house?

Either way, it had to be safer than a firefight.

He'd made it out, huh?

He opened his eyes slowly, ready for the onslaught of light after being out for who knows how long. He hated the adjustment period, but he might as well get it over with.

The light was not as unpleasant as he expected, given the shadowed nature of the room. Rather than the bright fluorescence he anticipated, the only illumination came from a single strip of light along the wall beside him.

His vision was shaky at first, blurry as he blinked to moisten and clear his eyes, but before long, he was able to take in the room.

The window blinds to his left were drawn shut, a TV was mounted across from him, its screen dark. To his right, there was a small side table, and he had an IV attached to his right arm, hooked up to a clear bag hanging from the IV pole.

A hospital then.

Seeing that his location was safe, it was time to assess the damage.

As he attempted to sit, pain shot through his right side and traveled up his spine, causing him to hiss. He froze and his hand moved to instinctively cradle the spot, only to draw back at the tenderness of the skin beneath. He grimaced.

"Fuck."

He peeled the white sheet covering him away and took in the gray hospital gown he was wearing, before hiking it up to reveal the skin underneath. Even in the low dimness of the room, the scars that littered his body were familiar to him, grounding even, and it was only when he saw the surgical dressing on his right flank that he frowned.

Further evaluation led to the conclusion that he was sore as fuck, with plenty of bruises and cuts, but no other signs of major wounds.

"Could be worse," he mumbled before fumbling for the bed controls. He grimaced as he pressed the button to incline the bed so that he was sitting up, mindful of the dressing and making sure it wouldn't pull on any stitches beneath, before finding the red call button to ring for the nurse.

A moment later, a concerned looking young male nurse with brown hair and hazel eyes rushed in. The nurse approached, and when he was close enough, the name on his badge was legible.

Ethan N.

"You're awake. How do you feel?" Ethan asked, a kind but tired smile on his face.

"Water...no ice," he croaked out in reply.

"Yeah, of course".

Ethan flitted out of the room and reappeared a moment later with a plastic cup of water. He passed it to the newly conscious patient, who greedily gulped it down.

"More..."

Ethan looked at him apprehensively but nodded and once more left the room, returning shortly after. "You should take it easy...drink slowly. We want to make sure everything is working properly..."

His patient didn't care to listen, and once more greedily gulped the water down before speaking. "Water is the last thing that's going to kill me."

Ethan frowned but said nothing as he took the empty cup and placed it on the bedside table. "You came in in pretty bad shape. They had to do emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding. You didn't even have any identification on you. What's your name?"

He eyed the inquisitive nurse with a calculating gaze before grinning. "You can call me Wolf."

Ethan blinked. "Is that your last name?" he asked.

Wolf smirked. "Maybe."

After all, it was the closest he would get to giving his actual name.

Ethan frowned before shaking his head and sighing. "You'll have to tell us your name eventually, you know. The doctor will want to speak to you too now that you're awake."

"Sure, do you mind letting me take a look at my chart and handing me the phone?"

Ethan nodded. "Let me look at your dressings first."

Ethan pulled the gown away to reveal the mangled skin underneath, but he didn't cringe like most medical professionals that had tended to Wolf in the past. Instead, he avoided looking at anything other than the most recent wound that would likely leave a new addition to his scar collection.

"You know, I usually have someone buy me dinner first before letting them undress me..."

To his credit, Ethan only paused for a second to give Wolf a reprimanding glare before turning his gaze back to the dressing. Once done, he pulled the gown back down.

"Listen, buddy, sorry to disappoint, but I don't swing that way."

Wolf smirked. "Shame. Let me know if you change your mind."

"Sure, but don't hold your breath. How's the pain?"

Wolf moved his body, feeling the familiar shot of pain up his side but this time he was prepared for it. "Manageable. But feel free to give me some pain medication."

"I'll get you some Tylenol. Hang tight."

"Can you open the blinds?"

Ethan paused and eyed him for a moment before moving towards the blinds and drawing them open, showcasing the rising sun beyond.

Early morning it seemed.

"You seem pretty comfortable in a hospital...you go often?"

Wolf hummed low in his throat. "You going to take me on a date? That's my preferred way of getting to know each other..."

Ethan sighed. He moved to the foot of the bed and picked up the binder that rested there, before grabbing the hospital phone on the bedside table and placing them on the bed, within reach. "Here. The doctor will come in soon."

Wolf grinned. "Thanks babe."

Ethan rolled his eyes and said nothing before walking out.

Wolf's grin dropped as he grabbed the chart, quickly flipping through the pages to take in the records of his stay.

John Doe.

His favorite alias.

After he was done reading over the details, he placed the binder on the bedside table. Nothing too major, this would hardly rank in his top five near-death experiences.

Grabbing the phone next, he quickly entered the number he knew by heart.

It only rang twice before it was answered.

"Hey, it's me. Can you come get me?"

***

"You almost died, Lobo. If that knife had been just five centimeters higher it would have slashed your liver."

Lobo rolled his eyes at the glaring figure of the woman that stood with her arms crossed in front of him.

"Nice to see you too, Enye."

Enye sighed exasperatedly. Her French accent was stronger than usual, something Lobo noticed happened when she was angry. Enye's sandy blonde hair was pulled into a small ponytail atop her head with side swept bangs across her forehead. Even this early, she sported a full face of makeup; bright red lipstick highlighted her pouty lips and smokey brown eyeshadow made her blue-green eyes pop against her pale skin. She was dressed in a black pantsuit and white blouse. As formal as ever, it seemed.

"This is serious Lobo...you need to take a break. You have been more reckless than ever. It's almost as if you're chasing death at this point."

Lobo laughed darkly. "You know my name is Lobo, right? It means wolf. I'm not chasing anything except my prey. Enye, it's business."

Enye didn't look convinced. "I might believe you if you actually did something with that money and lived the high life."

Lobo huffed. "Maybe I'm just saving for retirement."

"You think you'll make it there?"

Lobo was about to reply when movement caught his gaze, and in walked Ethan with a cup of water and a small transparent cup with two white pills inside.

"Here's your next dose," Ethan said as he placed both items down next to him on the table.

Lobo smirked and gave him a smoldering look. "Thanks baby."

Ethan tensed before quickly exiting the room.

Enye sighed. "Why do you always flirt with them? It makes them uncomfortable."

Lobo shrugged. "That's the point, it makes them uncomfortable enough that they don't linger to ask questions. I like it better when it's guys, the girls tend to flirt back."

Enye chuckled. "What are you going to do when it's a guy that flirts back?"

Lobo grinned as he took back the pills like a shot without the water, his throat bobbing as it went down. "I guess it depends on if he's cute or not."

Enye just shook her head.

"Anyway..." Lobo continued. "You going to get me out of here or what? I'd rather not stick around for the police questioning."

Lobo didn't like the dark look on Enye's face.

"I'm thinking I should leave you here as punishment," she said.

Lobo let out an exasperated sigh. "Punishment for what? I got the target, didn't I?"

Enye's frown only deepened.

"Sure, after disregarding my advice against going in, and to wait for another opportunity. This is why you almost died. If you had been in some back alley and hadn't dragged yourself to a crowded street, no one would have been around to save you."

"Dammit Enye, we're not fucking cops or spec-ops. There are no rules to how we do things, and all that matters is that we get our target. If you want to pretend there's some actual fucking morals in what we do, then by all means, get me out of here so I can give you a fucking proper report."

There was a long stretch of silence as the two vehemently glared at each other. It felt as if it stretched on for ages, until finally, Enye relaxed just the slightest.

"You need a break."

Enye's voice was even and calm, as if she had decided it wasn't worth being angry and took on the stern tone of a parental figure instead.

"I don't need anything," Lobo growled out.

Enye let her arms fall to her sides. "Then I guess you don't need me."

As Enye turned and walked towards the door, Lobo's pride wouldn't allow him to call out to her.

***

Not having Enye help him out of hospital meant that Lobo had to go through the police questioning process. It was tedious more than anything, and a giant pain in the ass. Still, all he had to do was give them his statement and one of his many fake identities. He sold the usual safe story. He was in town for business, was mugged while he was out the previous night. He knew he couldn't say he was drunk since the toxicology report they ran showed he was clean. He claimed that the attacker had a bandana on, gave them a made-up description, vague enough that he knew they wouldn't find anything, but with enough details that they would believe him.

When they asked if he wanted to pursue legal action, he told them he was just happy to be alive, thankful for being found and saved by the wonderful hospital staff, and that he'd rather just carry on with his life and return home since clearly, his business wouldn't be possible anymore. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

It was an easy shut and close case. Experience told him that cops would happily leave something behind if it wasn't a high-profile situation or someone with influence to push them to action. They couldn't give two shits about the average person when they had a million things to do. With a broken and corrupted infrastructure like that of the police, getting away with what he did was easy enough when he knew just what to feed them. Sometimes though, he would get one of the heroic cops. The ones that wanted to make a difference, and it was those that Lobo was wary of most. They were harder to convince, and it was the reason Lobo would just rather avoid a police interrogation in the first place.

Given the fact that he had taken out a high-profile target, he needed to leave the city as soon as possible, even if he knew that taking a flight right after surgery wasn't exactly recommended, he was willing to take the risk.

Argora was a tolerable flight away, and one of the cities where he kept a safe house. It was a bustling city, full of life and enough people that made finding him like looking for a needle in a haystack; not that it was easy to find him to begin with. In the world of mercenaries, Lobo was known as Big Bad. His record was impeccable, with more jobs under his belt than ten mercs combined, and that was without exaggerating. Better yet, no one knew who he was. He was faceless, a difficult feat in modern times with its level of surveillance. Not to mention, when everyone specialized in espionage, death, and underhanded tactics, it meant that for Lobo to remain in the dark, he had to take out all those that tried to expose him.

Eventually, his reputation alone allowed him a semblance of peace. Occasionally, a rookie would get the urge to prove themselves by taking him on, since he appeared to have become an urban legend even among his kind. They quickly learned their mistake.

Lobo would take any job as long as the reward was worth it. And he had yet to fail one. He intended to keep it that way, Enye's sensibilities be damned.

He landed in Argora on an overcast day. The city was not big enough to be called a metropolis or crowded to the point that buildings were stacked on top of each other, either. It was small enough that he felt comfortable walking to most places, with a good transportation system for those that were farther away.

The rain started soon after, which only served to put him at ease. Lobo liked the rain, the bite of the air, the touch of wet droplets as they fell on his skin. He felt like he belonged amongst the dreary and monochromatic landscape of the city. He enjoyed watching the people scurry to their destinations, as if the rain itself was poison, seeing otherwise busy streets trickle down to only a few people that had an unavoidable reason to be outside.

Lobo didn't even care when people looked at him with concern for walking so leisurely—without so much as an umbrella—and became soaked under its touch. It was chilly enough that he should be wearing a jacket; instead, he walked in a pair of dark jeans and one of his favorite red shirts. He loved graphic tees, had a collection as wide as women did shoes. He bought one anytime a design caught his eye, or if he liked the phrases printed on it. His favorite was a plain black t-shirt that read I woke up like this, although he was partial to the one that read Fuck Off. That one always made sure to garner some glares, but it also kept people away.

As he walked to his destination, his gaze followed the path of the falling droplets. He watched where they pooled into puddles and the ripples they created as gravity brought them to the ground beneath his feet.

By the time he reached his safe house, his black curly hair was plastered to his forehead, and his red shirt was heavy with the weight of the water that had soaked all the way to the dressings of his wound.

Punching the keycode into the door, he turned the lever and opened it to reveal the space within.

A flat on the third floor of a small building on the lower east side of the city. Not exactly high end, but calm and cozy enough that neighbors weren't particularly nosy or asked questions given their own busy work schedules to get by.

He came by often enough between jobs that he almost considered it his primary address. He had a good handle on the city and even had a few favorite restaurants and places to shop when he had the urge.

The flat was scarcely decorated and looked every bit the bachelor pad that someone would expect of a single man in his late twenties. Since this was one of his first safe houses, he had furnished it himself, and it showed. The black pleather couches in the living room were weathered and showed their age in the tan patches where the black material had chipped off, as well as the linear cracks that looked like spider veins. The wood coffee table had seen better days, and the small TV was so old he doubted the brand even existed anymore. It was the one thing he considered upgrading and made a mental note to do so while he was recovering.

There were two bedrooms in the flat, one that he used to sleep, and the other that he used as a gym. He had plenty of hidden stashes of weapons and ammunition should he need them.

It was the bathroom that he made his way to, peeling off his t-shirt on his way, shivering as goosebumps formed on the exposed skin at the sudden change in temperature. He slipped out of his pants and boxers and the rest of his wet clothing and threw them into a careless heap in a corner of the bathroom floor.

Lobo opened the cabinet and took out the first-aid supplies before removing the wet dressings currently covering his healing wound.

He had been advised to make a follow-up appointment with his primary doctor to remove the stitches and check the closing wound for infections. Not that Lobo had any intention of following through. By now, he was experienced enough to remove his own stitches and take care of himself and could easily recognize an infection.

He decided to take a shower before applying the new dressing. The warm water was soothing as he lay under the spray and cleaned off his days in the hospital. Sponge baths just didn't compare to a shower like this, even when done by a nice nurse.

Abdominal surgeries were always a pain to recover from. They usually kept him out of action for at least a month and a half if he didn't want to be reckless. Which was why he made an active effort to not get shot or stabbed in the abdomen often. Or at all, if he could avoid it.

Lobo sighed.

It had not been wise of him to take on a building full of armed guards. He could have chosen a better location to take out the target, but he had been impatient. He hadn't wanted to wait any longer, and had decidedly said 'fuck it' and rushed in.

He had made sure to be stealthy on his way in and got through most of the building before he had been found. He easily found and eliminated the target but getting out was noticeably more difficult.

Still, he had managed to get away and only collapsed from the stab wound in a crowded street where he knew he wouldn't be followed.

Enye was insane to suggest he needed a break just because he had been a little impatient. So what? It's not like he was getting any younger.

As he shut off the spray of the water, he pulled out one of the towels in the cabinet above the toilet, and sloppily rubbed it against his wet hair before wrapping it around his waist. He grabbed the supplies he would need for a clean dressing and set to redress himself.

Soon he was dressed in sweatpants and t-shirt and settled on the couch, where he had taken out his phone to place a food order. By the time he checked his bank account, he could see the payment of his most recent job had already been wired.

Perfect.

Now...what was he going to do for the next month and a half?

***

It turned out that a month and a half was plenty of time to refurnish the safe house and more.

Lobo decided to splurge for once, since he might as well use the money he'd earned to be more comfortable while he was out of commission. He got a new TV and sound system, more comfortable couches, and even some new kitchen gadgets. Hell, he even got a new bed.

The rest of the time he spent watching TV shows, discovering new music, and surfing the Merc Web for any information on what he would do once he was fully recovered. While jobs were usually scarce, he'd never had a shortage of direct offers.

Usually those offers came from Enye.

Enye, one of the most well-known and respected Coordinators. And everyone knew that she was the only way to reach Lobo.

Lobo sighed. So much for that...

Enye had yet to contact him, and it seemed she was serious about giving him the cold shoulder, maybe even cutting him off.

Not that Lobo couldn't find another Coordinator, it was just that he liked Enye. The only person he might call a friend.

Still, a month and a half came and went. His wound healed cleanly, the skin formed a new scar just like he knew it would, and Lobo felt like a free man from his self-imposed exile.

Now that he was back to one hundred percent, he wanted to reward himself. Not with good food or a drink or new gadgets, but rather with a cute companion for the night.

It had been a while since he had indulged in the more carnal pleasures of the world, and since he didn't have a job lined up to take the usual edge off, it seemed that he would have to search for the next best thing.

Luckily, he had a few local and nearby spots that he liked to frequent just for times like this. Lobo dressed in one of his better outfits; dark black fitted jeans that highlighted his better assets, and a maroon button-up shirt that was tight enough to be considered a second layer of skin but did a great job of highlighting his broad chest and tout abdomen. The short sleeves showcased his muscular arms, and he decided to put a new pair of small black studs in his ears, as well as the usual silver chains around his neck. The miscellaneous bracelets and rings on both hands came on next, and as Lobo took in his olive reflection in the mirror, he considered which pair of sunglasses to don for the night. He decided on his favorite sporty and sleek, matte black pair.

Part of keeping himself in the dark meant that he often wore shades to hide at least part of his face. Maybe it was a little overboard, but even before he became a mercenary, Lobo didn't like to be memorable. Keeping his face partially concealed simply made him feel more at ease.

Some lovers liked the element of mystery and had him keep them on. It was a fun game that Lobo didn't mind indulging, so long as it left him satisfied. He was down for most things really, and he could confidently say there was little he hadn't done or tried at least once when it came to the bedroom.

Making his way to the doorway, Lobo slipped into his plain black, leather, lace-up boots and grabbed the matching black leather jacket hanging from the hook next to the door before exiting the flat and closing the door behind him.

As he began the five-minute walk to his destination, Lobo wondered what kind of pickings would be available on a Thursday night.

***

Point Bound had been a surprising constant for the last five years. A lively nightclub with three floors, it had remained standing when others had come and gone. He had no doubt it was due to the variety of music and aesthetics that could please anyone, and the popular DJs.

It was also known to attract a healthy population of gay men, particularly on the second floor. This was where Lobo made his way to after being let through without so much as a carding, since even the bouncers recognized him by now.

The second floor played mostly electronic music. Lobo couldn't say it was his favorite, but it got people in the mood to become inebriated and grind without any reservations, and then some. The bright magenta and cyan strobe lights were in full effect as he made his way up the stairs and onto the familiar floor. Bright and showy neon lights highlighted the multiple bars around the area, and Lobo made his way to his usual with purpose.

He never felt he quite fit the aesthetic of this floor, but there was no shortage of attention his way, so why fix what wasn't broken.

Despite the early hour, girls in rave wear were already dancing on raised platforms, and would be rotated every two to three hours. He honestly never understood how someone could dance for that long. He'd rather trek through trenches of mud and blood. At least he had experience in that department.

He arrived at the bar but didn't recognize the bartender. The girl was petite, with an ample bust behind a tight plain white t-shirt tied to be form-fitting and showing part of her toned stomach, and bright pink hair tied up into a high ponytail. She had several piercings in her eyebrows and nose, and heavy black liner round her eyes.

Noticing his arrival, she quirked an appreciative eyebrow at his appearance. He hoped she wasn't interested, since she would be sorely disappointed. Still, maybe he could get some free drinks out of it.

As she approached, Lobo leaned in so they would be able to hear each other over the loud electronic music playing.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"You got some Remy Martin XO?" he asked.

He noticed the surprise in the widening of her eyes, but he wasn't sure if it was due to the usual response to his voice or his expensive request.

Regardless, she nodded.

"Give it to me neat. Be gracious, if you don't mind."

The bartender smiled before nodding and heading to the other end of the bar to fulfill his request.

Good...it looked like she wouldn't try to proposition him. A true professional.

When she came back with the taster's glass, she had indeed been gracious, but he noticed the look of apprehension on her face.

"Will you be opening a tab?" she asked, holding the drink just out of reach.

Given the price of what he ordered, he wasn't surprised. He would never come to a nightclub with the intention of stealing a drink, but he understood there were people who would, and the young woman was just looking out for herself.

"Please," he answered as he gave her his black card.

She nodded and handed him the drink. She took his card, swiped it on the machine and typed in the necessary information before handing his card back.

"Name?" she asked.

He knew she could look at the card, but it was dark, so he would indulge her.

"John," he said, the alias rolling easily off his tongue.

It was his favorite, after all.

"Can you see with those shades on?" she asked, curiously. It was the most frequently asked question when he came to dark places with his shades, and now, it was just a challenge of how ridiculous he could make his responses.

Lobo grinned. "I'm not sure, do you really have four arms or am I just imagining things?"

His reply earned him a smile, but before she could say anything else, another customer was motioning to her. She gave him a one last smile before walking away.

It was true that the shades inhibited his vision, but it was a good thing that the rest of his senses were sharp enough to compensate. Years of training had made sure of it.

The cognac was a dark mahogany color that couldn't be fully appreciated in the light of the room, but the familiar smooth flavor had just enough bite to create a delicious harmony on his tongue and remind him why he did not mind its price tag.

It was the perfect way to start the night, and already his eyes were scanning the area.

Although Lobo was still young by most people's standards, he sometimes felt as if he had lived several lifetimes, and even those that were older seemed younger to him. He guessed that most of the crowd was in their early twenties, and while young and inexperienced could be fun, he wasn't sure if that's what he was in the mood for.

As his gaze settled on the side of the bar adjacent to him, he took notice of a particular man.

It was the way that he covered his mouth with his hand when he laughed that drew Lobo's attention. The small act piqued his interest, since it wasn't a mannerism he saw often. As he looked, Lobo could admit that he was cute.

Really cute.

He was Asian, his dark hair combed forward and swiped to the side with a textured pattern that gave it a nice style. With a slim build, he wore a plain, white t-shirt underneath a gray blazer, but the bar counter kept Lobo from seeing the bottom half of his outfit. He was talking to another man, both holding a tumbler of some unknown liquid as they spoke. The air around them seemed friendly, comfortable enough that the two men seemed more like friends than strangers.

Suddenly, this one was at the top of his list.

He would observe for a while longer before making his move.

As Lobo took comfortable sips of his drink, he found it easier to keep observing the same man than scoping the area for other options. He had been receiving looks, but none that he felt particularly drawn to, not like this guy.

Even though he couldn't hear what the two men were talking about, something about the man's movements continued to draw his attention. The words timid, reserved, and adorable flashed through his mind the more he regarded the stranger. All these words simply from how he sometimes awkwardly rubbed his arm and the way he felt the need to cover his mouth with a fist when he laughed, as if he was self-conscious of his smile.

It was oddly alluring, although Lobo would be the first to admit that his usual type was the brazen and spitfire kind.

Maybe he wanted to switch things up for tonight?

Regardless, he wouldn't know his chances until he figured out whether the stranger was even interested in men. Just because he was here with another man didn't exactly tell Lobo anything concrete.

Fuck it.

He motioned for the bartender again, who smiled and made her way over.

"Can you give the guy over there in the gray blazer another of what he's having? On me?"

The girl smirked as he subtly pointed in the direction of his target, and the girl nodded before walking over.

Lobo made sure to watch the entire time. He took in the look of surprise on the man's face as the bartender placed the drink in front of him, and the way his gaze was drawn back to him when she pointed in his direction to show who his gracious donor was.

Lobo raised his own glass, just to make sure there was no room for confusion.

Despite the distance and darkness of the neon-lit room, Lobo could have sworn the man blushed, and his hand moved to cover his face before he raised the glass in thanks.

Lobo smirked.

Step one complete.

He would take the blush and flustered reaction as a good sign, although it could just mean that the man might be fun to tease at most. He. observed the friend's reaction as well. No jealousy or possessiveness...instead the man laughed and gave his target a pat on the shoulder.

Another good sign.

Lobo stayed at the bar, watching his target as he sipped his drink. He was pleased to note the increase in the way his target fidgeted, and the way he occasionally looked Lobo's way, as if to see if Lobo was still watching him.

Clearly, he was.

The next question was...who would make the next move?

Either Lobo would grow impatient, which was likely, or his target would make his way over to tell Lobo he wasn't into guys.

The preferred outcome, of course, was that he would be interested in guys and then Lobo could get on to the fun part.

He was just about to cave when it seemed that his target's friend gave him the push he needed, a literal push away from the bar as the friend made a shooing motion with a wave of his hand. His cute target seemed a little distressed, because he turned around with the look of a kicked puppy that made Lobo want to laugh. He didn't, since he was too busy feeling excited as the man looked his way before slowly walking over.

The walk seemed to take excruciatingly long. Finally, his target stopped short of him, his eyes darting from his face to behind his shoulder, to his face again as he practically curled into himself.

Lobo grinned at the shy picture of the man before him, still holding his half-filled tumbler in one hand while the other was tucked into the pocket of his black pants.

"Um...h-hello...thank you for the drink."

Holy shit...fucking adorable.

Never could Lobo say he had found a timid man so endearing. And his voice. Smooth like silk, boyish, even though he looked closer to his age than most in the club. It wrapped around Lobo like a blanket on a cold night.

"It looked like you could use it."

Not the best pickup line...but Lobo knew what he was doing.

The man's eyes widened at the sound of Lobo's deep and raspy voice. His gaze once more darting behind his shoulder before coming back to Lobo's face.

"O-oh...is that so? Do I look as out of place as I feel?" the shake in his voice was accentuated by the way the hand stuffed into his pocket moved to rub against the arm holding his drink. He averted his gaze and Lobo grinned.

"Maybe a little...but actually...it was more because I think you're pretty cute. And I have a policy to buy drinks for guys I think are cute."

The blush that colored his cheeks was the desired effect, and Lobo felt victorious when he covered his face with his hand. "O-oh...um...thanks? I think..."

Not good at taking compliments it seemed...not completely unexpected, he supposed.

"You say you feel out of place...what brings you here?" Lobo decided he needed to make the other man comfortable if there was any hope to move forward.

"Oh um...the friend I was with over there," his brown gaze darted in the direction of the now empty space at the bar that he and his friend had previously occupied, "he's a DJ and I came for support...his set is coming up soon, so he just left to start setting up."

Lobo hummed. "You're a good friend, coming to a place you don't feel comfortable in. Want to stick with me?"

It was a smooth offer, and the man looked surprised as his gaze flitted around some more before settling back on him. "Oh. Um, I suppose so. I don't really have anything else to do."

Still, Lobo was pleased when the man settled into the space beside him along the bar.

"Um...what brings you here?"

The cute guy was only a few inches shorter than Lobo, maybe three at most, and they had to lean in close to be able to talk, not that Lobo minded. His sharp senses allowed him to take in the scent of the man's cologne, and the fresh tones of it tingled in his nose.

"Just needed a night out really. This place is one of my favorite spots."

The man nodded as he took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, this looks like a nice place. Pretty busy too."

"What's your name?" Lobo asked.

The man looked at him. "Ty."

Ty...interesting.

"My name's John. Is Ty short for something?"

Ty hesitated. "Um...yeah...but I would rather not say. I don't really like the full name. It's kind of weird..."

Lobo really wanted to push, but he had a feeling he had to hold back.

"You don't look like a John," said Ty. "Not that there's a way to look like a John, because I guess there really isn't..." Ty blushed with embarrassment, and once more covered his face. "Sorry...that was silly to say."

Lobo chuckled. "No, don't be. You're right. I don't really give off the John vibe. I'm told I give off the dark and mysterious vibe, that I should change my name to Daemon, with an 'e' you know, to be extra edgy, since some think that's how I sound."

That seemed to do the trick, because Ty laughed, a genuinely amused laugh, and it made Lobo grin back. "Yeah, I think Daemon with an 'e' would definitely suit you. Although I don't think you sound that bad…"

Ty's gaze was drawn to the shades on his face, and Lobo smirked. "You want to know about the shades?"

Everyone wanted to ask about the shades. And very few had the courage to.

To his surprise, Ty shook his head. "Oh...no, you must wear them for a good reason. You don't have to say anything. I'm just a stranger."

Lobo raised an eyebrow. Interesting. That was a response he'd never had before. The closest thing to it that he could remember was 'only if you don't mind telling'. "Okay then. I appreciate it."

The conversation they kept was light and safe. They ordered more drinks, and Ty was even sneaking looks when he thought Lobo wasn't looking.

"What are you drinking?" Ty asked.

Lobo could tell the alcohol was taking effect, since the man looked much looser than he had when he'd first approached. "Remy Martin XO, my favorite cognac."

Ty's brown eyes shined with recognition. "Oh, that's high-end stuff. I've never had it..."

Lobo smirked. "You know it?"

Ty nodded timidly. "Um...yeah...I was a bartender during college. Nothing like this though. Just a small bar, not even one of the crazy college ones."

Lobo hummed, partly surprised that someone so shy could be a bartender. Then again, he could see the charm in it. He would have probably been a regular with a bartender like Ty.

"You want to try it?" Lobo offered, holding out his glass.

Ty hesitated, a look of nervousness on his face.

"I promise I didn't put anything in it," Lobo added.

Ty looked surprised by Lobo's comment and waved his hands in front of him. "Oh, no, I wasn't thinking that! Really!"

Lobo raised an eyebrow. He wouldn't have been surprised if he did, since it was safe and normal to be cautious of accepting other people's drinks. Was he so naïve? He couldn't be, surely?

Still, the hint of nervousness was replaced with temptation in Ty's brown eyes, and it gave Lobo a trill of excitement.

"Um, okay, sure..."

Tentatively, Ty reached out, and Lobo made sure their fingers accidentally brushed as he took the taster glass from him. He felt Ty's hand tremble, but he kept a hold of the glass until he was sure that Ty wouldn't drop it.

The blush once again appeared on Ty's cheeks. Lobo thought his intent gaze might burn a hole through him as he watched Ty place his lips on the rim of his glass, and tilt it back enough to take a small sip of the liquid.

An indirect kiss.

Ty covered his face with his hand as he brought the glass down and offered it back to Lobo, who took it, once more brushing his fingers against Ty's and enjoying the shiver it sent up his arm and down his spine.

Oh. There was no doubt he would not be satisfied until he locked down on this cute target.

"Um...it's good. Very flavorful and nutty."

Lobo hummed appreciatively. "A man with taste I see."

Ty looked away. "Oh, I don't know about that."

Lobo chuckled, and it was then that he realized it had quieted down. New music started up at a different tempo, and he realized this must be the new set by Ty's friend.

"Hey...wanna dance? It's your friend's set, right?"

By this point, Lobo was almost sure he would be able to close the deal. Ty had plenty of opportunities to turn him down, and the fact that he was still around and had accepted his drink placed him in the sure thing category.

Ty looked nervous again, unsure, like a deer caught in headlights. Lobo decided to be bold and reached out to grab Ty's hand. The man trembled at Lobo's touch, but he didn't pull away or flinch, and it was all the invitation Lobo needed to gently pull him in the direction of the dance floor.

It had been lively for some time now, since the two had spent the passing of time with conversation. Still, Lobo decided it was best to take them to one of the less crowded locations on the dance floor.

Thankfully, Ty's friend had good taste in electronic music, because the song that played was slow and sensual despite its electric roots, just what Lobo needed, and a perfect opening track in his opinion.

Lobo placed his hands on Ty's hips, glad when Ty's arms came to rest around his shoulders, his face flushed from the alcohol and maybe his own embarrassment. Ty leaned in close to his ear, so he could hear what he said, but the breath against his neck still made him shiver.

"I...I'm not much of a dancer."

Lobo chuckled as he placed his mouth near Ty's ear and muttered seductively. "Follow my lead, you'll be fine."

Lobo felt Ty let out a breathy sigh and nod against him. He turned Ty around, so his back was against his chest, and Lobo moved his hips sensually to the beat of the song. He held the slim man close and used his hands on Ty's hips to help guide them to the rhythm.

"Relax," Lobo whispered against his ear. "Just move your body to the rhythm."

Lobo needed Ty to let go. He applied just the right amount of pressure with his hands and hips as they slowly got used to the rhythm of the set.

It took two songs before Lobo was sure that the alcohol had finally relaxed the slim man dancing against him, Ty's hands atop his own as Ty leaned his body against Lobo. Lobo was feeling affected by it all himself. Every time their hips came together, the trill of desire that shot up his spine was more intense, and soon he couldn't resist leaning down to press his lips against the crook of Ty's neck.

Ty trembled under Lobo's touch and craned his neck to give him more access.

Lobo smirked at the silent invitation and began to move his hands across Ty's abdomen, slipping them under the blazer first, and caressing the man through his thin t-shirt with deft fingers, before slipping them underneath the t-shirt as well. He was sure he heard a soft breathy moan from Ty, but it was hard to tell with the loud music.

Lobo turned Ty around, and the sight of his unfocused gaze and the way he bit his lip as he looked up at him made Lobo fight back a groan. Instead, he grabbed Ty's hips, his hands moving further back and down, so that he was holding the smaller man's backside before bringing their hips together, until they were flush against each other.

They shivered, and Lobo leaned forward. "You feel really good, baby, I want to see more of you."

The effect was instant. Ty's eyes widened as Lobo's gaze burned into him with a fire that threatened to consume.

The shorter man bit his lip, before wrapping his arms around Lobo's neck to bring them closer.

Still, the other man said nothing, and simply pressed his nose into Lobo's neck, and such an innocent action by Lobo's standards should not have made his blood shoot south like it did, not to mention the way Ty's shallow breaths felt against his skin.

It wasn't often that Lobo felt so consumed by desire, and it was gradually becoming more difficult to hold back.

Thankfully, it was Ty who closed the distance between them, his face gently nudging against Lobo's as Ty brought their lips tentatively and softly together. Lobo didn't need any more encouragement than that, and eagerly welcomed the contact as one of his hands moved to the back of Ty's head and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

As Ty gasped into the kiss, Lobo made sure to ravage him through his clothes, his hands roving methodically over him, until Ty was panting and grinding against him, and both were noticeably hard against each other, lost to the world around them.

"What do you say we get out of here?" Lobo groaned against his neck.

Ty nodded silently against him with a shiver. "Yes, please."

Lobo groaned.

He needed to make sure to hear that again soon.

Very soon.