Manhattan Nights

Summary: The blonde ripping up the dance floor, the Boltoner drinking the night away. Lone worlds collide only in the City That Never Sleeps. Flones.

The Blonde Ripping Up the Dance Floor. The Boltoner Drinking the Night Away.

Blade readjusted his black and neon green cap, the poor bastard whom he had recently ripped up retreated to the door of the club. Blade almost felt sorry...but anyone who defies his title, well, they be talking to his moves.

He brushed some loose blonde strands of hair out of his eyes and headed to the bar, excusing himself from his little entourage. His mint Mickey Mouse tank drenched in sweat, his black second-skin jeans, one of his many battered Converse, and his trademark blade necklace all wet in sweat as well as smelly. The blade around his neck was real but dulled, it was always just an accessory, never a weapon. He slyly strode over to the bar, next to a lonely man who seemed to drink the night away.

"Just a shot of the usual, Kim." He told his friend/bartender. Kim nodded and quickly fulfilled the order. He leaned on the under-glow counter, he saw through the reflection the plastic and glass created; the beautiful blue-eyed man.

"If y're wondering if I'm drunk, I ain't." He said. Blade only smirked and tipped his shot to him then drank its contents. The blue-eyed stranger did the same only with beer.

"You sure can handle your alcohol." Blade said. "How many have you had?"

"Just a few. Four 'r five pro'ly."

"Well then I rest my case. You're good with alcohol."

The stranger smiled and leaned closer to Blade. The strangers' leather jacket rubbing against his bare arms. The hood behind him didn't belong to the jacket though but to a hoodie hidden inside the leather, inside the hoodie; a simple graphic tee. Blade also took this time to admire the rest of the beautiful stranger. His black jeans and studded boots and the freckles that could be seen underneath the conservative man's clothing. The smile, his laugh, those glimmering eyes. Oh those sweet, shimmering, twinkling, slightly lust-tinted eyes.

"Blade." He said. The other chuckled lightly and shook his head. Blade understood this. "T-Tom... Tom Fletcher."

"Danny Jones."

"British?"

"How'd you know?"

"I am. Sadly, however, it's been a while since I was there."

A tinge of personal tension, Danny felt, he avoided the topic.

"How 'bout you?" Tom asked.

"From Bolton. I'm just here cuz I wanna."

"Oh come on, there's gotta be a better reason." Danny only shrugged and took a swig of his beer, before setting it down then sighing. The tension faded but now it was a silence, that neither of which were comfortable with.

"Danny?" Danny turned to Tom's direction and saw him standing up, arm stretched to him. He had a hand held out. "Would you like to dance with me?"

Danny smiled, "I can't dance."

"But that doesn't mean you don't."

"I guess..."

"Well let's go then." Tom grabbed Danny's hand and led the both of them to the middle of the dance floor. For a moment, all eyes were on them. People had thought they were going to battle. Tom shook his head.

"Why are they staring at us?"

"They think we're battling." Tom sighed. Danny smiled. They paid no attention to them and only danced. It was only between them, the music, and the lights. They stared at each other. Just the two for a while.

Clink. Gulp. Clack.

"Can I ask you a question?" Tom raised an eyebrow at Danny's question.

"Sure what is it?" Tom replied.

"Why Manhattan?" Tom nodded and took a sip of his drink.

"I was kind of living in the fast lane which is, I know, very surprising considering my age."

"Oh you were, were you? So you're rich?"

Tom was taken aback, "Well yeah... That WAS my life. I was an attorney, back at...uh, London, you know but I never really felt... happy."

"Oh?"

"So I left. I packed my things traveled here and started a new life. Ever since I was young I wanted to pursue my dreams as a dancer. So with the money I earned I took up lessons now I'm a happy-as-I-can-be dancer working as a hotel manager."

"Really now? How old are ya anyway?"

"I'm only twenty-five." Danny nodded. "Now that I said why, tell me your reason. Why Manhattan?"

"Just felt right here, y'know. I had that feeling that something was pulling me here. I felt complete but I still felt like I'm missing something."

"Felt? You mean 'feel' right?" Danny shook his head and took another sip of his beer.

"Nope. Lost the feeling when I met you." Tom's eyes grew but only for a split second. Danny seemed so casual about this. Tom didn't really know how much longer he stayed there, he only noticed the time when Danny got up. "Well it's late and I better get going. Nice meeting ya Tom."

Danny walked a few steps only to be pulled back. Secondly, he felt warmth on his mouth. Thirdly nothing but the blur; transitioning from neon blue to the dim lamp next to the bed.

It's hot in here, so hot. Light mint fell then covered by dark leather. Only one skin now, only one. They looked into each other's eyes.

The blue twinkle grew bright

The chocolate grew sweet
As mint became dark
And minds became green

When the ripper of dance floors
Met the drinker with a smile shining bright
All was well, all was good
On this Manhattan night

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it! To be really honest with you guys I never really understood the concept of the story... and it's mine! Luckily my friend it so I'm happy! Welp daz eet! Lataz!