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florian wirtz slouched over his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl under the dim bar lights.
the place wasn’t crowded, just a low hum of voices, the occasional clink of glasses, and the quiet scratch of a record spinning in the corner. it was the kind of place you went to when you didn’t want to be found, but still needed company.
his sister, juliane, sat across from him, fingers wrapped around a tall glass of something bright and citrusy. she had always been like this — picking the lighter things, the fresher choices.
flo, on the other hand, found himself sinking into the weight of the evening, into the bitterness that clung to the air like smoke.
“so,” she said, leaning her chin on her palm, watching him carefully. “are we gonna talk about why you’re sulking into your drink like some tragic poet, or are you just gonna keep brooding?”
he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “i’m not brooding.”
juli tilted her head. “flori...”
he shook his head, staring at the rings of condensation on the wooden table. “it’s just been a shit week.”
“hmm,” she hummed, taking a sip of her drink. “bad game?”
he scoffed, rubbing at his temple. “bad training, bad game, bad everything. i can’t get a break. one mistake, and suddenly it’s all falling apart.”
juli didn’t rush to answer. she never did. she let the words sit there, let them breathe, before she spoke. “it’s not falling apart, flo.”
he huffed a laugh, low and humorless. “feels like it.”
she rolled her eyes. “you always do this. you think the world is ending every time something doesn’t go exactly how you want it to.”
“because i care.” the words came out sharper than he meant. he sighed, lowering his voice. “because i work my ass off and i want it to mean something.”
“it does mean something,” she said, patient but firm. “but one bad week doesn’t erase everything you’ve done.”
he pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “tell that to everyone who’s suddenly acting like i forgot how to play football.”
juli clicked her tongue. “you mean tell that to yourself.”
he looked up at her then and there it was — that knowing look, the one that said she saw through all of it, through the frustration, through the exhaustion, straight to the part of him that wasn’t just angry, but afraid.
he hated that she was right. he hated that he needed her to be right.
he picked at the edge of a napkin, voice quieter now. “it just... it gets exhausting, you know?”
“of course it does,” she said softly. “but you don’t get to let it consume you. you’re allowed to have bad weeks, flo. you’re allowed to mess up. but you don’t get to sit here and pretend like it’s the end of everything.”
he sighed again, long and deep, letting her words sink in.
juli leaned back, stretching her arms over her head. “besides, you know how this goes. next week, you’ll score some ridiculous goal, everyone will sing your praises, and you’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”
he gave her a flat look. “that’s not—”
“yes, it is,” she cut in, smirking. “it’s literally happened before.”
he grumbled something under his breath, but the corners of his mouth twitched, just slightly.
juli smiled, satisfied, and raised her glass. “to bad weeks, and to the good ones that always come after.”
flo hesitated for a second, then, with a quiet exhale, lifted his own glass. their drinks clinked together, soft and certain, and for the first time all week, something in his chest felt a little lighter.
juli took another slow sip, then, with the kind of casualness that was anything but casual, asked, “so, have you been laid lately?”
flo choked. quite literally. the burn of whiskey shot down the wrong pipe, and he coughed, half-wheezing, as he slammed his glass back down. “what the fuck, juli?”
she just grinned, utterly unbothered. “oh, come on. it’s a fair question.”
“it is absolutely not a fair question.” his voice was still hoarse from choking.
she shrugged. “well, that reaction tells me everything i need to know.”
he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “why are you even asking?”
“because,” she said, drumming her nails against the table. “maybe your bad mood has less to do with football and more to do with, you know, the lack of... extracurricular activities.”
he gave her a deadpan look. “you are actually the worst.”
“debatable.” she leaned forward, suddenly looking far too excited. “but since i’m an excellent older sister, i’m going to fix this.”
flo narrowed his eyes. “fix what?”
“you,” she said simply, before dramatically scanning the bar. “we’re finding you a date.”
he groaned, but she was already pointing at some poor, unsuspecting guy at the counter. “what about him? he looks... available.”
flo followed her gaze. the man was stirring his cocktail like he was contemplating the weight of the universe. “he looks like he’s about to commit tax fraud.”
she snorted. “okay, fair. next.” her eyes swept the room again before landing on a tall blond guy near the jukebox. “oh! what about him? he’s—”
“wearing sunglasses. indoors. at night. no.”
“okay, valid concern.” she grinned. “but maybe he’s mysterious.”
“or maybe he’s blind from his own poor decisions.”
juli laughed, unbothered, and kept looking. she scanned, lips pursed in mock concentration. flo was only half-listening to juli, her voice threading through the warm hum of the bar, the clinking of glasses, the low murmur of laughter.
she was about to point someone out — some guy she thought would be flo's type, her hand lifting in a careless gesture — but then the air shifted, something quiet and certain, and a presence settled beside flo at the bar.
he didn't look at first. only heard the easy way the man spoke, the rich cadence of his voice as he ordered a gin tonic gor himself, the soft lilt of something that made flo turn before he even realized he was doing it.
"you always this distracted?" the stranger asked and there was a curve to his mouth, something amused, something knowing.
flo blinked and suddenly, juli was forgotten. the whole room was, really. because up close, he was— god, he was warm, not just in the way he looked, all dark eyes and golden-brown skin, but in the way he felt, like standing too close to something bright.
"depends on who's talking," flo replied, surprising even himself with how steady his voice came out.
"oh, nice one. i'm jamal, by the way." his name came easy, like he’d given it a thousand times before but somehow made it sound new, fresh. flo tasted it in his mind, rolling it around like something sweet.
"flo," he found himself mumbling, extanding his hand towards jamal. his fingers brushed flo’s as he shook his hand, grip soft but also kind of firm. barely a touch, fleeting, but it lingered, hummed through flo's skin like something meant to stay.
and jamal, god, he smiled, and it wasn’t the kind that asked for anything, just one that existed, effortless and devastating.
"well, i hope i am worth the distraction then."
juli, somewhere, was watching. juli, somewhere, was smirking.
but flo— flo was already too lost to care.
she sighed then, stretching lazily before sliding off her stool. "well, i think that's my cue to call it a night," she said, amusement lacing the edges of her voice. "you two enjoy whatever this is." a wink, a teasing grin, and then she was gone, swallowed into the pulse of the bar, leaving flo and jamal alone in the dim glow of it all.
flo exhaled slowly, let himself settle into the quiet that followed, let his fingers trace the rim of his glass as a distraction. jamal didn’t fill the silence right away, didn’t rush to push words into the space juli left behind. and somehow, that made it easier.
"so, do you come here often?" jamal finally asked, tilting his head slightly, like he wasn’t just asking a question but studying flo’s reaction to it.
flo huffed a quiet laugh. "that has to be the most unoriginal line you could’ve gone with."
"hey, i’m just trying to break the tension. you looked like you were about to combust."
flo rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smirk tugging at his lips. the initial rush of nerves had ebbed, replaced by something slower, something easier.
he could do this — just talk, just enjoy the company of a stranger who happened to have the kind of presence that made the whole room shift slightly around him.
"fine, yes. i come here a lot," flo admitted, taking a sip of his drink. "juli drags me out when she thinks i need to touch grass."
"smart friend."
"debatable. she's my older sister though."
jamal laughed and flo felt it in his chest, warm and unguarded. the conversation stretched on, moving like a river, unhurried but certain, winding through stories of the city, of bad first dates, of the best places to watch the sunrise when the night refuses to end.
and then, like a shift in the wind, something changed. it was in the way jamal leaned in slightly, in the way his fingers rested just a little too long against the bar when flo’s hand was near.
"you know," jamal murmured, voice dipping lower, "if your sister was trying to set you up with someone tonight, i hope it wasn’t that guy she was pointing at earlier."
flo raised a brow, amused. "why? you think you’re a better option?"
jamal grinned, slow and devastating. "i don’t think. i know."
flo’s pulse stuttered, caught between amusement and something else, something dangerous. his fingers tightened slightly around his glass, but he didn’t pull away when jamal’s knuckles brushed against his.
"cocky, aren’t you?"
"confident," jamal corrected. "but if it makes you feel better, i’ll let you think you have the upper hand. for now."
flo exhaled a laugh, shaking his head, but the warmth spreading through his chest was undeniable. maybe juli had been onto something, after all.
jamal smirked, tilting his head as he traced the rim of his glass with one long finger. "you know, if you keep looking at me like that, i might start thinking you actually like me."
flo scoffed, but the warmth curling in his stomach betrayed him. "and if i do?"
jamal’s grin was slow, deliberate. "then i’d say you have excellent taste."
flo shook his head, but he was smiling, something small and unguarded. the drinks had softened his edges, made him lean in without thinking, made him stop questioning why jamal’s presence felt like something he had been waiting for without knowing it.
"you’re awfully sure of yourself," flo murmured, letting the words settle between them, watching the way jamal’s eyes flickered under the dim light.
"not always," jamal admitted, swirling his drink lazily. "just when it matters."
flo arched a brow. "and this? this matters?"
jamal’s fingers brushed against flo’s again, so lightly it could have been an accident. except it wasn’t. "i think it does. don’t you?"
flo exhaled, slow and measured, but he didn’t pull away. "what is it you want, jamal?"
jamal leaned in just a fraction, voice dipping lower. "right now? i want to see how many times i can make you smile before you catch yourself."
flo huffed, but the way his lips twitched betrayed him. "that’s a ridiculous goal."
"i’ve already won, though. you’re smiling right now."
flo bit his lip, shaking his head, but he didn’t fight the way his body had already shifted closer. there was something intoxicating about this, about him — jamal, who flirted like it was breathing, who carried confidence like it was stitched into his skin, who looked at flo like he was something worth looking at.
flo traced a lazy circle on the condensation of his glass. "so, do you do this with everyone?"
"do what?"
"sit at bars, charm strangers, act like you’ve known them for longer than an hour."
jamal hummed, considering. "only when the stranger is interesting."
flo rolled his eyes. "you have an answer for everything."
"only because you keep asking the right questions."
flo wanted to be annoyed. truly, he did. but he was too caught up in the rhythm of it, the way jamal’s voice curled around words, the way he moved as if the whole night had been crafted just for him to exist in.
"what’s your deal?" flo asked, resting his chin on his palm, openly studying him now. "you some kind of poet? a professional flirt?"
jamal chuckled, shaking his head. "just someone who knows a good thing when he sees it."
flo’s fingers tightened around his glass. he wasn’t used to this — wasn’t used to being looked at like that, like he was something worth memorizing. it made him restless, made him want to push against it, just to see if jamal would push back.
"that’s dangerous," flo murmured.
jamal’s gaze didn’t waver. "what is?"
flo swallowed, let the moment stretch. "wanting something too much."
jamal tilted his head, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "do you?"
flo exhaled. "i don’t know."
"well," jamal said, voice dropping to something quieter, something more intimate, "maybe that’s the fun part. figuring it out."
flo’s breath hitched, just slightly, just enough for jamal to notice. but before he could say anything, before flo could lose himself completely, he deflected.
"you believe in fun, then?"
jamal’s grin was sharp, quick. "oh, absolutely. but only the kind that leaves a mark. and i always get what i want."
flo hummed, hesitated, ran a hand through his hair, before he shrugged: "i don’t believe in always. i rather believe in never. never getting what i want."
jamal didn’t look surprised. didn’t even flinch. he just considered him for a long moment, then took a slow sip of his drink. "well, i don’t believe in never."
flo raised an eyebrow at that: "hm... you know how the saying goes — opposites attract."
jamal grinned wickedly, his eyes lighting up as he said: "never."
flo's lips quirked, a slow, knowing smile. he let the word settle between them before leaning in just enough to whisper, "always."
his pulse thrummed against his skin. he had no idea if they were arguing or agreeing, if they were pushing or pulling. all he knew was that he was already too far gone to pretend this didn’t matter.
jamal tapped his fingers against the bar, then glanced at flo with a lazy kind of certainty. "let’s get out of here."
flo hesitated, the warmth of the bar still clinging to his skin, the weight of jamal’s voice settling somewhere deep in his chest.
but then jamal was already sliding a few bills onto the counter, nodding at the bartender, like leaving was inevitable, like this moment had already been decided.
outside, the night stretched wide, thick with the scent of rain on pavement, with neon reflections flickering in puddles. the air was cool against flo’s flushed skin, grounding and electric all at once.
he exhaled, watching his breath curl into the dark and jamal was already reaching into his pocket, already flicking open a lighter with practiced ease, the flame a brief glow against his face.
"you smoke?" jamal asked, offering the cigarette between two fingers.
flo took it without thinking, brushing against jamal’s skin in the process, and jamal didn’t pull away. their hands lingered, a second too long, a fraction past casual.
jamal lit it for him, close enough that flo could see the way his pupils expanded in the dark, the way his mouth curled at the edges like he was holding back something sharp, something dangerous.
"bad habit," flo murmured, taking a slow drag.
jamal watched him, eyes dark, unreadable. "so are most things worth doing."
flo exhaled smoke and a laugh, shaking his head. but he followed when jamal started walking, their footsteps lazy against wet pavement, their shoulders brushing, just slightly, just enough.
jamal walked like he had nowhere to be but everywhere to go, like he expected the world to move around him and maybe it did.
flo found himself matching his pace without realizing it, drawn into the quiet hum of the city, into the way jamal’s fingers occasionally grazed his wrist, his elbow, the small of his back — barely there, barely anything, but each touch left an echo.
"so," jamal murmured, flicking ash onto the street, "do you always let strangers buy you drinks and then follow them into the night?"
flo glanced at him, smirking around his cigarette. "only the charming ones."
jamal chuckled, a low, warm sound. "so you admit it. you like me."
flo rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. the space between them was charged, humming, stretched tight like a wire about to snap.
jamal’s hand skimmed his waist, a ghost of contact, and flo’s breath hitched before he could stop it.
he wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to wanting and being wanted in the same breath, wasn’t used to someone making it feel this easy. it made him restless, made his skin feel too tight, made him press his tongue against the inside of his cheek just to keep steady.
jamal stopped walking first, turned toward him, close enough that flo could see the way the streetlights reflected in his eyes, could feel the heat of him even with the space between them.
flo looked up, pulse a quick staccato against his ribs. he took a slow step back, an instinct, a reflex—
but jamal followed.
he stepped forward, deliberate, closing the distance and flo didn’t move, couldn’t move, caught between the thrill of it and the inevitability of it.
"tell me to stop," jamal murmured, so close now, breath ghosting over flo’s lips.
flo’s fingers curled at his sides. he swallowed hard, forced himself to breathe, but he didn’t speak. didn’t stop him.
jamal exhaled a quiet laugh, something satisfied, something knowing. then —
his hands found flo’s waist, and then his mouth was on him and the world cracked apart.
it wasn’t soft. it wasn’t slow. it was teeth and breath and hands grasping at fabric, desperate, consuming.
flo gasped against him, hands fisting in jamal’s jacket and jamal pressed him back, back, until flo’s spine met the rough brick of a building, the cold biting through the heat of their bodies.
jamal kissed like he was hungry for it, like he had been waiting, like he wanted to taste every sharp inhale, every stutter of flo’s breath.
flo melted into it, lost himself in the slide of mouths, in the heat pooling low in his stomach, in the way jamal made a low sound when flo tugged at his hair, fingers threading through soft curls.
jamal broke away just enough to whisper, "fuck," against his lips, voice wrecked, breathless. then he kissed him again, harder, deeper, like he needed it to breathe.
flo whimpered into it, heat pooling at the base of his spine, his knees threatening to buckle. jamal’s hands were firm at his waist, grounding him, pressing him closer, like he couldn’t stand the idea of space between them.
flo bit at his lip, just to hear the sharp inhale, just to feel jamal’s grip tighten. jamal groaned, dragging his mouth along flo’s jaw, his throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses to skin still burning from the cold air.
flo tilted his head back, breath hitching, hands still clutching at jamal like he might disappear, like he might wake up and find this was all some fevered dream.
jamal pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him, his eyes heavy-lidded, dark with something flo wasn’t ready to name.
"fuck," jamal said again, softer this time, more like an exhale than a word. "i knew you’d taste good."
flo was shaking, breathless, lips swollen, eyes wide. "shut up."
jamal grinned, slow, devastating. "make me."
flo didn’t hesitate. he surged forward, crashing their mouths together again, stealing the words right from jamal’s lips.
jamal groaned against flo’s lips, hands tightening at his waist, fingers digging in just enough to make flo gasp, just enough to make him feel owned.
flo could taste the night on him, could feel the press of something inevitable, something reckless curling between them.
jamal kissed like he wanted to unravel him, like he wanted to memorize the shape of flo’s mouth with his own, like he was willing to drown in it.
flo’s breath hitched as jamal shifted, as their bodies slotted closer, heat radiating between them like something alive, something dangerous. he felt like he was burning from the inside out, like he had been waiting for this without realizing it, like every fleeting touch, every lazy smirk, every word jamal had spoken tonight had been leading here.
jamal’s hands slid up, tracing over fabric, finding the curve of flo’s ribs beneath his jacket, a slow, deliberate exploration. flo shivered, a quiet noise escaping before he could swallow it down, and jamal caught it with his mouth, swallowed it whole, made it his.
"fuck, flo," jamal murmured against his lips, voice wrecked, breathless. "you feel so fucking good."
flo whimpered, his fingers fisting in the fabric of jamal’s jacket, trying to ground himself, trying not to lose himself completely. but jamal was relentless, mouth moving to flo’s jaw, his throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to overheated skin, tongue flicking over the pulse hammering at flo’s neck.
flo’s head tipped back against the brick wall, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut. "jamal—"
jamal hummed, a low, satisfied sound, nipping lightly at the skin just beneath flo’s jaw before soothing it with his tongue. "say my name again," jamal whispered, his voice a dark promise, a soft demand.
flo swallowed, his throat dry, his body trembling with the weight of it all. he could barely think past the way jamal’s hands were sliding under his jacket now, past the way his fingers pressed into his hips like he was trying to mark him, to claim him.
"jamal," flo breathed, barely more than a whisper, but it was enough.
jamal cursed under his breath, dragging his mouth back up to flo’s, kissing him deep, messy, like he was trying to devour him whole. flo melted into it, let himself be taken apart, let himself need.
he had never been kissed like this. had never been wanted like this — like he was something worth unraveling, like he was something jamal wanted to memorize in the dark.
and god, he wanted.
it was terrifying and dizzying and too much, but flo couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop, because jamal was everywhere, all-consuming and flo wanted to drown in him, wanted to chase that heat, that feeling, that something he couldn’t name.
jamal broke away just enough to press their foreheads together, breathing hard, his hands still gripping flo’s hips, his body still pressed tight against him.
"tell me to stop," jamal murmured again, just like before, just as wrecked, just as desperate.
flo shook his head, his own breath coming fast and uneven. "don’t."
jamal exhaled something that sounded like relief, something that felt like surrender. and then he kissed him again and again and again, until the whole night blurred around them, until flo wasn’t sure where he ended and jamal began.
jamal pulled back first, but only just, their breaths tangled in the space between them. flo’s lips felt swollen, his skin too hot, his pulse hammering in his throat. he could still taste jamal on his tongue, could still feel the imprint of his hands, the way they had burned against his ribs, his hips.
jamal exhaled, slow and heavy, eyes flickering over flo’s face like he was memorizing the flush of his cheeks, the way his chest rose and fell with every uneven breath. then, with a quiet chuckle, he brushed his thumb over the corner of flo’s mouth, tracing where his lips had just been.
"we should walk," jamal murmured, voice hushed, like he didn’t want to break whatever spell had wrapped itself around them. "before i forget how."
flo let out a breathless laugh, nodding, though his legs still felt unsteady beneath him. jamal stepped back, but not far, just enough to let the cold night air slip between them, to remind flo that time hadn’t stopped, even if it felt like it had.
so they walked.
side by side, their shoulders brushing, the city stretching around them in quiet hums of neon and the distant echo of traffic. the streets felt softer at this hour, blurred at the edges, the glow of streetlights casting long, shifting shadows across pavement slick with past rain. flo shivered slightly and jamal — without a word — shrugged off his jacket and draped it over flo’s shoulders.
flo glanced at him, something unreadable passing between them, something weightless yet heavy, something neither of them named.
jamal didn’t take his hand away immediately, his fingers brushing against flo’s collarbone before he finally let go, stuffing his hands into his pockets like he hadn’t just left fire in his wake.
"you always this reckless?," flo asked, voice quieter now, the adrenaline still lingering but tempered by the steady rhythm of their steps.
jamal hummed. "depends on what you mean by reckless."
flo huffed a soft laugh, pulling jamal’s jacket tighter around himself. "this."
jamal tilted his head, eyes glinting under the streetlights. "you regret it?"
flo didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked up at the sky, the way the city lights drowned out most of the stars but left enough of them scattered in the dark to remind him they were still there.
"no," he admitted finally.
jamal smiled, slow, knowing. "good."
flo rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched. he nudged jamal’s arm lightly with his elbow. "don’t get cocky."
jamal laughed, a low, easy sound that curled in flo’s stomach. "too late."
they kept walking, the silence between them comfortable now, filled with the quiet hum of the night.
somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, fading into the city’s heartbeat.
flo stole a glance at jamal, at the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his mouth still looked kiss-bruised, the way his gaze softened when he caught flo looking.
and then jamal smirked, because of course he did, because he had a way of catching onto things too quickly, of unraveling flo without even trying.
"so," jamal said, voice teasing but laced with something quieter beneath it, something careful, something almost tender, "do you believe in love at first sight?"
flo inhaled, steadying himself, letting the night settle into his bones.
he thought about it — about the weight of things, about how he had spent so long convinced that everything was temporary, that nothing ever stayed, that people left and love faded and promises cracked like old paint on forgotten walls.
he thought about how jamal kissed like he meant it, how he touched flo like he was learning something sacred, how he looked at him like he saw every unspoken thing and wasn’t afraid of it.
and then, finally, he answered.
"things like these never happen."
jamal glanced at him, eyes dark, searching. then he smiled, small but certain, a flicker of something endless curling at the edges of his lips.
"they always do."
they grinned at each other cheekily, parting ways at the end of the street. not without exchanging another heated kiss. and their numbers, of course.
they walked to their homes with the hotness of each others lips on theirs and the gentle beating of their hearts which have fallen into sync. they would always think about this moment. and they would never regret it.