Body swaying with the bass beating within my chest, everything but the music blaring within the crowded club fades away. Eyes closing, it's all too easy to sink into oblivion and just become one with the throbbing beat. It's my escape, the only thing left to me that no one can take. Finally my mind is at peace and devoid of everything that weighs me down.

Hands ghost over my back, slipping down my sides to grip my hips. Anonymity, that blessed darkness that lets everything just come naturally without having to seek deeper meaning. The name of the stranger pressing his chest against my back and grinding against me doesn't matter because we're using each other. He doesn't have to know who I am. None of that matters as we move with the music. For this moment we're one and free of all the bounds of life.

"Fuck, you're sexy," his lips whisper against my ear, brushing down my neck as one of this hands slips around my waist to flatten against my abdomen. Whatever minute space separated our bodies disappears as his arm tugs me closer. It's a nice kind of suffocating closeness, his body heat joining with mine.

Featherlike fingertips dance down my chest, another body rubbing sensuously down my front. Soft hands cup my face, dragging my head down as hungry lips devour mine. Perfume fills my nose as the much curvier body from the front pushes against me, a slim leg working its way between my thighs. For a moment the contact is smothering, just a little overwhelming. My head thrusts back, eyes opening as I drag in gulps of air into my suddenly empty lungs.

Resting my head against the shoulder behind me, my body stills between the two dancers. Suddenly craving a cigarette and the fresh air outside offers, my body manages to slither out from between the pair, pushing through the crowd and barreling towards the exit. Digging into my pocket as I stumble through the door, my hand closes around the crumpled pack of menthols, jerking it free of the tight denim. Shaking out a cigarette and slipping it between my lips, my hands pat against vacant pockets searching for a lighter that has apparently disappeared somehow during the night.

"Shit." Slumping against the side of the building, frustrated fingers run through the sweaty hair spilling over my eyes. That nicotine craving is just a bit more intense than before, now an almost ache within my body. I think the idea of knowing I can't have one right now is just the catalyst needed to send that craving panicking through every fiber of being.

"Need a light?"

Startled, the cigarette falls from between my lips as my head whips around to find the source of the softly spoken question. He's just slightly taller than me, but he's definitely more intimidating with the obvious muscles straining against his tight shirt. It doesn't help that his blue eyes are piercing glaciers that seem to see right through me despite the amusement glimmering within their depths. A dark eyebrow lifts in question, his lips curving as a not so subtle step lessens the distance between us.

"I think you dropped this," he muses, bending to retrieve the forgotten cigarette from the sidewalk. Extending his hand towards me, the cigarette and a neon green lighter cradled against his palm, his eyes meet mine again. "You were intending to smoke this, right?"

"Um… yeah." Tongue flickering over strangely dry lips, I reach out to retrieve the items but as my fingers close over them his hand twists upward to grip my wrist. Confused, my gaze drifts back to his face to find his eyes focused on my lips now. "You know, I've been watching you for weeks. You're something else on the dance floor," he murmurs, his fingers stroking lightly over the racing pulse beneath them.

"Thanks. You wanna let go of me so I can smoke that cigarette now?"

"Honestly, not really. Do you know how long it took for me to finally get close enough to dance with you? There's always so many people fighting to be with you, it's almost impossible. I was surprised to find you without a partner tonight."

"You're the guy…." Putting a face to the stranger grinding against my back from before is a little embarrassing. Without the anonymity of the dance floor everything is just a little too real. "Well, you danced with me tonight." Attempting to tug my wrist free, I'm dismayed to feel his grip tighten, another step closing the distance between us. "Come on, man, I just want my smoke, okay? What do you want from me?"

"Your name would be a nice start." Abruptly I find myself pressed against the wall, his body crowding me. This is a whole different kind of suffocating, one that's not so nice. "Dude, what are you doing? Get off me." Like I thought, pushing against his muscled body is not so easy. "Your name?" he persists, dipping his head down and touching his lips to my temple.

"Like I'm really going to answer you when you're assaulting me."

"Assaulting you? This is hardly assault." Fingers trail down my ribs, drifting lower until they settle against the top button of my jeans. Expecting the fingers to continue their path, my body jerks as instead of tearing away the button, the fingers slide into my pocket. "What are…? Hey!" Seeing my wallet clutched within his hand as it reappears, I make a wild grab for it, but he easily shifts out of reach, his fingers flipping open the wallet to expose my driver's license.

"Hmmm… Ethan Sanders, huh? Never would have pegged you for an Ethan but maybe that's not what you go by? You have a nickname? And twenty-four. You look much younger." His eyes move from the wallet to my face, a calculating look appearing on his face. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Of course it's real! Now give it back." Grabbing for the wallet again, I'm surprised when he allows me to snatch it from him. Before I can question his motives a demanding pair of lips crush against mine, the fingers of one hand fisting in my hair and jerking my head forward to deepen the kiss as his tongue thrusts between my lips. Desperately pushing at his chest, my fists clench in his shirt, struggling to find the leverage needed to force him away and free myself. The tongue thrusting within my mouth claims every inch, stroking my tongue and willing it to join its frantic dance.

Remaining passive against the mouth attacking mine, I will my body to go limp, dropping my hands to my hips. As abruptly as the kiss began, his head lifts, his hands releasing me as he steps back. "Well, Ethan, you may be stubborn, but I will have you," his promise breathes against my ear, and then he's walking away without a glance back leaving me bewildered and weak against the brick wall.