#as always raedear was very supportive of this very silly idea and now you all get a fic

[the73rdpostscript]

Excuse Me (Excuse Me)

Joe’s mood has been up and down over the past few hours. His energy took a big hit after the last song, but at some point in the last ten minutes Booker handed him a vodka Redbull. While Joe had called his dear friend some choice words at the drink selection, the caffeine is now buzzing in his blood, and he knows Booker is already forgiven.

Their victory in the match this afternoon was sweet. Fucking Stephen and his Northside team of assholes took the loss without an ounce of dignity. The rush had been heady, and now that the club music is vibrating in his chest, Joe feels free to do anything.

Somewhere beyond where he dances with Nile, the broad shouldered white guy he'd grinded on an hour ago is still dancing between a few other strangers. Joe watches him toss his head to the beat of an old 2000s song that they're both too old not to know. It might have been playing in the college parties where Joe had his first drunken hook-up. The memory moves like molten gold in his mind and he takes another swig of the drink in his hand, dropping his hips low as the beat ushers in a new singer for the chorus.

In front of Joe, Nile has turned her head away – paying more attention to someone else he can’t quite see yet. Soon, she spins away from him fully and loops her arms around a gorgeous tall brunette that must be twice her age.

Left alone on the dance floor, Joe keeps swaying to the familiar tune that he now recognizes as Pitbull of all things.

The lights of the club have changed from flashing yellow to pulsing blues and purples. In Joe’s peripheral vision he can see Shoulders has stepped back from his dance partner, giving them space to flop down and begin some fancy vogueing. The room erupts with a cheer from those who can see the show.

"For all we know we might not get tomorrow," Ne-Yo sings.

Smiling, Joe lets his head fall back and sings along as loud as he can while everyone is distracted by the impromptu performance happening among them.

Later, he will be deeply embarrassed about his next choices, but in the moment, he feels lit up from within. His mood is high with the heady combination of chemicals and nostalgia; the lights are mesmerizing; and the bodies around him are all as good as friends.

Shoulders is only a foot away from him, which means when Joe sings louder he knows he’ll be heard. Sliding up behind the other man, Joe wraps his hands around Shoulders’ hips and leans in close so he can croon along with the singer, "Grab somebody sexy, tell 'em hey!"

The man startles for a moment, leaning his head back to see Joe's face over his shoulder. The new angle highlights a strong nose and a quirk of the lips. Joe pulls their bodies closer, moving his hips to the beat and trying to keep from laughing. It only takes a moment for Shoulders to make a face that indicates he recognizes Joe, and as soon as he does, he spins around so they can properly grind in time with the beat.

Joe doesn’t remember the verses, so instead he focuses on the feeling of their bodies pressed together, and the happy expression on Shoulders' face as they move. Shoulders’ eyes are pale and intense under the lights, but they glow with satisfaction as he leans in to give Joe the best kiss of his life (or at least the best kiss so far).

Years later, Nicky will happily tell anyone who asks that they met when Joe called him Sexy in front of a crowd of people. Sometimes he will tell people that Joe hit on him using a Pitbull song. Every iteration of the story leaves Joe feeling mortified, but he still smiles like an idiot when he wraps around Nicky in bed at night and murmurs, “Hey.”

#kaysanova #yusuf al kaysani #the old guard #mine #joe/nicky #as always raedear was very supportive of this very silly idea and now you all get a fic #also every iteration of joe loves club music and i'm right and i should say it