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Yukio was wondering the same thing, lounging as he was on the couch at the same club where the afterparty for the holiday gig had been. Was this a date? In a way, he kind of thought it was, sort of, and had dressed accordingly in some of his nicest (and hottest) gear. In a way, though, it wasn't a date, just a couple of people who were more than passing fond of each other meeting up for an evening of drinks and music and cuddles. But wasn't that what a date was?

He was still pondering this, swirling his glass of prosecco in one hand while his free arm was stretched along the back of the couch, when he saw Holland approach. Once more he was struck by how ridiculously cute the small man was, as utterly adorable as a kitten. He knew, though, that Holland was definitely a grown-a** man. Was he ever.

"Hey you," he said affectionately, one eyebrow raised as Holland flopped gracelessly onto the couch next to him. "No, you're not late, I was early. Sorry about the parking situation… I walk everywhere, so I don't think of things like that. How are you? Would you like a drink?"

Instinctively Yukio put his arm around Holland's shoulders as he cuddled in against him. The feeling of the man's head resting on his chest gave him a warm, tingly feeling inside and set his heart thumping. It was so simple a move, yet so telling of how Holland felt about him, and he smiled as he took another sip from his glass. He could never have imagined in a million years that a simple encounter at a Korean cafe or getting frozen into a storage closet together could have led to this. He thanked the internet gods for helping him figure himself out.

"Only fine? Let's fix that." Yukio texted the bartender to bring him a virgin strawberry daquiri, please and thank you, for he was in no position (or mood) to stand up and get it himself. Sliding Holland's hat off his head, he sighed happily and murmured into his hair, "I could stay like this forever…"

"....Oops." With a flat expression typical of his deadpan style of humor, Yukio slid the hat back onto Holland's head, giving it a couple of light pats with his hand. As the smaller man squirmed into his lap, he squirmed a little bit beneath him. "No, not uncomfortable… not at all," he said, shaking his head, a slight blush rising in his face. No, it wasn't uncomfortable at all to have a super-cute guy in a short skirt and thigh-high stockings crawl into one's lap while one was wearing tight leather pants. In fact, it was the complete opposite of uncomfortable. Awkward, maybe, in a moderately public situation, but not uncomfortable.

Yukio raised an eyebrow. This was actually kind of nice.

He nodded at the bartender, who shot him a sly wink. "Thanks, man." Thanks for not teasing him out loud. Yukio knew he was in for one hell of a ribbing in the future, though, the next time he was here by himself. "Are you comfy there, Hol? I can call you Hol, right? You don't mind? I like don't have another nickname for you yet…" Or a pet name for that matter. Yet.

Yukio drew back a little, raising an eyebrow. "I would never call you that, not in a million years." He knew full well – all too well, in fact – how some short men reacted when their lack of vertical stature was pointed out to them, especially by a tall person. Mind, he hadn't been on the receiving end of such a reaction, but it certainly wasn't for lack of trying to goad one. He used to be something of a jerk back in high school, for all he was one of the zit-faced nerdy AV kids; anyone teasing him or his friends got served a helping of sarcasm for their efforts. Yukio had to shake his head a little. At least he got better…

Taking a sip of his fizzy drink, he looked at Holland, who was innocently drinking his beverage with the cheekiest grin he'd ever seen on the man's face. "You know, I was contemplating that same thing just before you got here," he replied nonchalantly. "On one hand, when you think about it, this is really just a couple of guys who happen to like each other a lot hanging out and having a few drinks. On the other hand…" Yukio gave Holland the tiniest of smirks. "What do you think? Does this count as a date?"

It amused Yukio no end to see Holland raise an eyebrow in what seemed to him to be an imitation of his own signature gesture, and he snorted a soft laugh and smiled. (He'd been smiling a lot more since meeting Holland, not just his typical little faint semi-smiles but full proper smiles. It felt… right. A bit strange, given his usual flat expression, but right and nice.) He took a sip of his prosecco. "I'd kind of like to think this is a date too, Hol. I mean, what is a date really? Just two people who happen to like each other a lot meeting up to hang out and have a few drinks," he said, intentionally echoing his previous words.

He had to think, though, about what to do on a date. It had been several years since he'd been on a proper date, after all… "Hmm," he hummed into his glass, finishing off the sparkling wine. "Well, hmm." Yukio fully expected Holland to call him on his delaying tactics, but the other man didn't know about his nonexistent love life. What did one do on a date?

"We could go out dancing, I suppose. I really enjoy dancing, as you may have guessed. There are quite a few clubs around here I go to for dancing. And we're both dressed for a night out. Or hmm." He hesitated again, studying the face of the small man currently parked in his lap. Such a cute face… and so red all of a sudden. Was he getting ideas?

"Then let's go dancing." Yukio's hand lingered on Holland's back as the smaller man slid off his lap and stood. He could practically see Holland vibrating with energy and anticipation for dancing. Did he love dancing as much as the DJ did? Yukio raised an eyebrow. Was that even possible? Because he really loved dancing. He could lose himself on the dancefloor, forget his problems, forget the day, forget the whole Knight thing and the stupid pointless war, even forget the DJ life, and just be.

Retrieving his bomber coat, he stood as well and donned the jacket, waving at the bartender. "Put it on my tab." He then turned his attention back to Holland. "You good to go? The place I'm thinking of is just down the street, maybe a block away, so we can just walk it if you're okay with that. Your car will be fine where it is."

Yukio returned his hand to Holland's back. He didn't want to usher him out, but he was excited to see what the pink-fringed man was made of on the dancefloor.

The club was packed, filled with people getting their party on in preparation for the holidays. Still, there looked to be plenty of room on the dancefloor for moving and grooving. Yukio checked his jacket (but not his hat, never his hat) and followed Holland into the crowd. The energy was great tonight, and he let himself get caught up in the beat, his hips and body doing a casual slinky-snaky move and Michael Jackson-style spins in place on his heels. He didn't feel like slamming into the other dancers, so he kept to one spot, watching Holland move.

And holy s**t, was that a revelation. The guy could move. Yukio watched Holland shimmy and shake his hips to the beat of the music, writhing like a man possessed. Possessed by the joy of dance. The DJ was utterly mesmerized, watching the small pink-fringed man move. And when Holland turned and cheekily lip-synced along with the song, Yukio's face split into a huge, genuine smile. This was probably the most fun he'd had out dancing in quite some time. And the evening was just getting started!