The music was pounding hard enough to make the floor shake, red and gold lights flickering across the crowded flat. Damion sat back on the couch with a girl perched on his lap. Her perfume was too sweet, her laugh too practiced. His buzzed blond hair caught the light each time he leaned in, but his eyes weren’t on her.

They were on him.

Will stood near the kitchen with a drink in his hand, brown hair a mess, his smirk too confident for someone who looked that unimpressed. A girl was talking to him, but his gaze wasn’t on her either. It was on Damion.

When their eyes met, neither of them looked away. Damion smiled first, slow and deliberate, then leaned down to kiss the girl beside him, lazy and meaningless. Will raised an eyebrow, lips curling before he pulled the girl next to him in for the same. The music drowned out everything else, but the challenge between them was loud enough.

After a while, Damion stood and moved through the crowd until he stopped right in front of Will. The people around them blurred into noise, the air heavy with bass and tension.

“You always this good at pretending?” Damion asked, his accent rough around the edges, every th softening into a z, his tone low enough that only Will could hear.

Will chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Depends who’s watching, hm?” His vowels were clipped and sharp, his English touched by that unmistakable German rhythm.

Damion tilted his head, smirking. “I knew you don’t like girls.” Will’s eyes glinted under the red light. “You sound so sure.”

“I am.” Damion stepped closer, the space between them thick with tension. “You look at them like they’re background noise. Same as me.”