I saw John carrying a round of drinks toward where Daniel and I were saving space against the crush of the crowd gathered inside Huai Bao. The club had opened a month ago in the basement of the apartment building where we all lived, but felt a world away. Thick, padded doors kept the sound contained; the owners had done a good job preventing noise from traveling up to our respective units.

As John got closer, I could see he was laughing, keeping his elbows wide as he worked his way through the crowd. When he finally broke through to us, Daniel shouted, “Are those on fire??” John had been ordering increasingly absurd drinks, and this was round three. We’d been there about an hour and a half. 

“Burn away the pain, Daniel. Just don’t singe your eyebrows,” John said, grinning. 

Daniel had gotten a text about five minutes prior, letting him know the girl he planned to meet here was sick and wasn’t going to make it. We all sensed it was a dodge. John and I had come along to observe the date from an arm’s length. We’d set Daniel up with two other girls prior to this, and what had seemed promising fizzled out both times. 

“We’re going to see what you’re fucking up, man. We’ll correct it on the spot if we can, but otherwise we’ll debrief tomorrow,” John told him at lunch earlier. 

“Yeah, I’ll run her off to the bathroom or something to distract, and you and John can figure out what’s going wrong,” I added. 

“I’m not totally incompetent, you guys. I don’t need chaperones,” Daniel protested, jabbing at a dumpling. 

“Not incompetent, Daniel. But who couldn’t use a second or third set of eyes? You guys would do it for me,” I said. 

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think you’d need that,” Daniel laughed. 

Fair enough. I had broken things off with a long-distance boyfriend two months ago and was on a bit of a tear. Being in another country, regularly speaking another language had a surprising, disinhibiting effect on me. These two had seen me pick up my fair share of guys. 

“Exactly!” John smacked Daniel on the back. “You have experienced wing people here. This is happening.”

But the girl bailed. 

“Fuck it,” I said, lifting my flaming glass. “Let’s find you someone else! Ganbei!”

We blew out the fires and drained our glasses. John started looking around, pointing out women he thought were Daniel’s type. Daniel just shook his head, laughing, clearly not about to approach anyone. 

“Come on, man. What is it?” John asked. 

“You’ve seen me out. I don’t just hit on women,” Daniel said. 

John rolled his eyes, playful mockery all over his face. He turned to me. “Claire, tell me. Is it disrespectful for a sexy man to talk to you with genuine interest?”

“Oh shut up,” Daniel interjected. 

“No,” I stopped him. “Absolutely not, as long as I’m open to it. And in that case, it’s very welcome.” 

“Okay?” John said, putting his arm over Daniel’s shoulder. “So you take your sexy self and look around for somebody who wants to get on that.” Daniel laughed some more. 

This dynamic between the two of them was so refreshing and appealing. I hadn’t ever gotten to witness close male friends who could talk about each other’s attractiveness without making it awkward or having to deflect around it with jokes. And they were both indeed very, very attractive. 

Daniel was a soccer player with dark, curly hair, light skin, hazel eyes, and a lean, toned physique honed by sport. Because we hung out in his small studio so often, I’d had plenty of opportunities to take in his towel-clad body right out of the shower. “Jesus, Daniel. Put that away, or else I’m going to go grab my laundry and do it on your abs,” I’d said more than once. 

John had more of a bad boy vibe on first impression. Medium skin, dark brown eyes, straight black hair he kept tied back all the time, tattoos snaking up his muscular arms, and strong, calloused hands. He was a metalworker with a minimalist’s affinity for workwear. He was usually clad in head to toe black, tight tees highlighting all the outlines of his musculature. Chinese-American and 26 to Daniel’s and my 22, he was in Beijing to learn the language he only knew fragments of. In actuality, John was more of a trickster than a bad boy, but the two could be indistinguishable given the right circumstances. 

“I’m bad at reading signals, guys. I really can’t tell if someone is actually into me, and I don’t want to be a creep,” Daniel said. 

“I think you’re swinging too far in the other direction, assuming everyone is disinterested,” I replied. 

“That’s it!” John exclaimed, clapping in emphasis. “Tonight is now a training exercise. Claire, do you mind playing hot girl at the club for this?” 

Even in the dim, red glow of the club, I could see Daniel blush. Or maybe I just felt the heat from his cheeks in the air. Whatever it was, it activated that feeling of pursuit that I had recently come to enjoy. 

“This is dumb. You guys are dumb,” Daniel muttered, but he was smiling.

“It’s perfect. Claire merter escort is close enough to what you like,” John said, shifting into a tone that was at once playful and suggestive. He leaned in closer to Daniel and looked me over nakedly, inviting Daniel into the gaze. “Short, dark hair, big green eyes. A little more tits and a lot more ass than the girls you’re usually after. But close enough. And low stakes. No stakes, even!”

“Thanks for the inventory of assets, John,” I teased. “Really, though, Daniel. Why not? Sounds fun. You might learn something.” His reticence awoke a feline instinct — I was the cat that toys with its prey. “And if it helps, it’s no big stretch on my end. I’d hit that.” I gave a light tap on Daniel’s ass as I passed him on my way toward the bar. I heard John’s hearty laugh behind me.

The two of them caught up with me a minute later, and I flashed a broad smile. Daniel didn’t say anything. John watched him expectantly. “Fuck, this is worse than I thought,” he said. 

“Daniel, this would be a good time to introduce yourself,” I laughed, taking a step forward to close the distance between us. “But I’ll do it this time. Hi. I’m Claire.”

John fell back a step to observe. Daniel shook his head but went with it. “I’m Daniel.” He scanned down and noted my empty hands. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure, thanks. Vodka soda. I haven’t been able to get the bartender’s attention.”

“Oh, if it’s been hard for you, it’s going to be impossible for me,” he said. Cute. Real cute. “Ugh, god, that was cheesy.”

John clocked my smirk and said to Daniel, “No, I think that’s working. That was more subtle than it felt. Keep going.”

Daniel looked at me, and I gave him an encouraging nod. “Alright,” he said, getting back into character. “Let’s both try, and whoever gets him first gets the drinks and a free ask-anything question.” Daniel had a bit more game than I thought. John nodded his approval. I, of course, got the drinks and the first move in this scenario he set up. I took a large swig in preparation. 

“So you’ll answer anything I ask?”

“Yes, but that was an unfortunate waste of your question. My turn,” he smirked. 

“Oh my god, that’s not fair!” I said, giving him a playful shove on his chest, and then letting my hand drift to linger on his forearm. “Fine. But the next one is gonna cost you.”

Daniel looked down at my hand. “So this is how you do it?”

“Don’t cede this back to me so quickly.”

“No, I mean– that wasn’t my question. I just hadn’t seen you do your whole thing close up. That was an effortless move. Meanwhile, I couldn’t actually think of a question. My mind went blank.”

With my one hand still on Daniel, I pulled John over by his forearm with my free hand. “What would you have asked the hot, touchy stranger?”

“You gotta keep the opening suggestive but not overbearing, right? It’s all in the tone.” He jumped right into the scenario where Daniel had left off, giving me an open but devilish smile. He leaned in a bit, and asked, “What kind of night are you hoping to have tonight?” I felt a thrill go through my body, despite the play acting. Heat rose to my cheeks as he looked me in the eye, glanced down and lingered a beat on my lips, and then met my eyes again. A small laugh escaped me as I had to look away. He smiled, pleased with the effect. 

“Got it?” he said, turning to Daniel. “Don’t do a weird low voice or try to be smooth. Keep it playful, but go ahead and let it be clear that you’re open to whatever she might be suddenly thinking.” John gave me a wink, and I felt my breath catch. “Alright, continue!” He slid out from my touch and went back to observing. I got the distinct feeling that John was fucking with me amid all this business with Daniel, but to what end? I sipped on my drink, and realized it was nearly gone. 

“Fucking hell. Alright,” Daniel said, shaking out his hair and limbs a bit. He fixed his face into the grin required for his next line, and leaned in, closer than John had. “What kind of night are you hoping to have, Claire?” John was right — the question was all tone, and Daniel’s version was breaking the fourth wall of our playtime. The place where my hand met his forearm had a sudden buzz of electricity. Again, it seemed that Daniel was better at this than he was letting on. I wanted to test it. I wanted to test this whole situation. 

I leaned forward enough to almost brush Daniel’s ear with my lips, but locked eyes with John, who was standing about a foot behind him. I smiled and whispered, “I want to have fun,” and returned John’s earlier wink. The corners of John’s mouth turned up. I felt Daniel stiffen a little. John leaned over Daniel’s shoulder, smiling inches from my face, and said, “Signal check. Interested or not interested?”

“I get it. I get it,” Daniel said. John laughed and pushed a piece of hair behind my ear before stepping back again. A fluttering in my stomach sent me half a step back, too. That check-in was for me, too. 

“Fair şirinevler escort is fair. You get your question now,” Daniel said, interrupting my spiral. I looked up into his eyes, and he looked more at ease. I gave him a slow once over, making a show of it, biting my lip. He had stopped shrinking back from my gaze and met it. Confidence looked hot on Daniel. He stroked down one of my arms and breathed against my ear, “Make it a good one this time.”

I felt his words run down my spine. I was getting dizzy bouncing between the suggestive touches from my two companions. I knew we were pretending, but my body had a short memory. Without my realizing it until just that moment, I had begun lightly circling my hips to the music blaring through the club. I was four drinks deep, too, and that was prime time for me saying whatever entered my mind. 

“What are you going to do to make my night fun?” I purred, running a hand over his chest. A beat, then I burst out laughing, breaking the spell. 

“Damn, Claire,” Daniel laughed. “You are all escalation. How long does it take you to lead dudes out of here by the nose? Five minutes?”

“It’s like three. I’ve watched her do it,” John said, eyeing me. 

“I want another drink,” I said, starting back toward the bar. 

“No way,” they both snapped, each grabbing a wrist and pulling me back. My pulse quickened at the contact. Their rough grips felt good; I thought I wouldn’t mind getting their scolding hands back on me.

“No Five-Drink Claire,” John said. “Get her a club soda with lime,” he directed Daniel. “This menace can’t have another drink for like an hour.”

“Oh come on,” I pleaded. I felt the dance floor calling me.

“Absolutely not,” John said, leading me over to a couch that just opened up. “You are hydrating, and then you’re dancing it off. We all promised last time.”

Five-Drink Claire was a bit of a chaos agent. She’d string along a couple guys that gave off toxic masculine energy and see if she could start a bar fight. Last time, that bad energy came back at her and she threw an unexpected punch that had the guy doubled over screaming bitch after her. Four-Drink Claire stuck to sexual energy. That was the sweet spot. 

Daniel went to get me my bubbles. I still wanted to know what angle John had been working with me. I scooted close to him on the couch and exaggeratedly tucked an imaginary lock of hair behind his ear, looking him in the eye. “What was that all about?” I demanded. 

He smiled. “Your hair was getting in your face. You hate that. I didn’t want you to fall off your game.”

I flopped back on the couch with a scoff. “I don’t fall off.”

“You were working him pretty good. He was right flustered for a bit there.”

“He recovered, though. I don’t know what his deal is with these other girls,” I said. 

“You know him. He’s a quick wit. Language isn’t his problem. I was surprised to see him so assertive with the arm touch-whisper combo he hit you with, though. You seemed to like that,” he smirked. 

“Excuse me, sir,” I arched into a long stretch, laughing, “this is for science. Or, education. Something.” I noted his gaze traveling my over my torso. 

“We have to get him out on the dance floor. I think that’s where the breakdown is.”

“Let’s go easy on him,” I laughed. “We don’t want to overwhelm our sweet Daniel.”

“Our boy needs a push. And he’s curious about you, so this is good for him.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you mean ‘curious’? Is this something that’s come up–“

Daniel arrived back to the couch carrying three glasses, noting our conspiratorial tone with a rueful shake of his head. He sat on the other side of me and handed us our club sodas. “Just, like, don’t even tell me what’s next, you two. Give me a chance to drink some water.”

Daniel tended to regard me like a live wire. So I was surprised when I realized how much of his body was in contact with mine during this break from the night’s instructional activities. I had gone braless in a thin silk tank and mini skirt set; I chose this outfit to give a hot-friend jealousy boost to his date. But without her here, Daniel’s attention was on me. His arm was draped behind me across the back of the couch, legs wide with one against mine. It felt like there was almost nothing between us.

“Hydrate up, my friend,” John said, reaching over my lap to land two sporting pats on Daniel’s thigh. “You’re gonna need it.” He withdrew his hand only as far as my mostly bare thigh, and tipped his head back, eyes closed, to drain his glass. Pressed between my two friends like this, I couldn’t tell if the flush I felt was from within, or if it was pure heat coming off them. 

John and I were admittedly more physically demonstrative in our friendship after a few drinks than I was in most other circumstances, but it didn’t usually feel this charged. I’d spent a number of nights out laughing in his lap for a bit before picking someone up. John was on the receiving end of many confused topkapı escort – and maybe permission-seeking – looks as men followed me out. He’d just raise a glass and nod deeply. The two of us had never so much as kissed, though we had spent cumulative hours with our foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air while laughing and talking. I’d woken up in his bed – fully clothed – many times. 

“Alright! Up!” John clapped at us. “To the dance floor!”

The music had shifted to a steady flow of euphoric EDM, all minor keys and pulsing heartbeat bass. Each step further into the music felt more like a jungle, sweat from the dense crowd of grinding bodies increasing the humidity. Momentarily blind spots from swirling, colorful spotlights hitting sweet-acrid plumes from the smoke machine required holding on to whoever you wanted to keep track of. I held John’s hand in my right; Daniel’s in my left. We found a spot far enough away from the speakers that we could still hear each other if we yelled.

I danced on my own first, having finally answered the call of the dance floor. Arms stretched overhead, eyes closed, my hips made slow circle eights as the bass reverberated through my body. Every direction I rotated brought a new wash of colors through my eyelids. I felt that ecstatic hit of dopamine that comes from the body’s perfect sync with music. I ran my hands down over my face, the tops and outsides of my breasts, my stomach, down to my hips — fully present, fully receptive to sensation.

I felt strong, competent hands splay over my ribcage and waist before wrapping around my lower back. I knew they were John’s without looking, and rolled my body against his before opening my eyes and wrapping my arms around his neck. He pressed his cheek to mine – letting a breath escape against my neck — and led me through a few movements with his hips and the broad, guiding hand he had across my back. He had the commanding physicality of someone who had danced Latin ballroom at some point, but none of the theatrics. His was a dance of communion, of communication; a hypnagogic state where every movement against his body felt inevitable. This is where I had seen him work his magic with women, and I was not immune to his sensorial charms. I turned my head slightly to breathe him in — a heady mix of cedar embers and clove– and felt a throbbing heat between my legs.

One of his hands left my back, and he pulled Daniel toward us. Daniel put a hesitant hand around my waist. He brushed against my back as he danced. John released me and pulled Daniel’s hips tight against my ass. He pressed Daniel’s hands firmly against me. “You don’t have to be afraid of her,” John shouted over my shoulder and the music. “She won’t bite.”

“At least not yet,” I said, reaching behind me into Daniel’s hair. I felt him huff a laugh against me. He was fun to tease. I tilted my head back so my voice could reach his ear. “Hey, you didn’t answer my question earlier.”

“What question?” He slid a hand up to my ribcage, grazing my breast. I sucked in a breath and arched against him.

“What are you going to do to make my night fun for me?” I curled the words into Daniel’s ear. I pulled John in closer to me by his waistband.

“The answer to that,” John murmured, pressing his forehead against mine so we both could hear him, “is ‘anything you want.'” He lingered an inch from my lips, a firm grip on my waist and low hip. The three of us moved in concert; every languid undulation returning a ripple of taut muscles against my front and back.

“What do you want me to do to you?” Daniel rasped. His breath in my ear and John’s on my lips put me in a frenzy. Whatever we were playing at here was getting away from me. My nipples were hard and rubbing against John’s chest through my silk shirt; I was wet and aching. I wrapped my free hand around the back of his neck. I closed my eyes and rolled my body, reveling in the feeling of being sandwiched between the two of them, the sweat on all our skin sticking together.

“I said the next question was going to cost you, remember?” I said, maybe to Daniel, maybe to both of them. I wasn’t sure.

“What’s the price?” Daniel breathed into my neck.

“A kiss,” I purred.

“From who?”

John didn’t wait for an answer; he pressed Daniel’s head deeper into my neck and then kissed me deeply. He rolled his tongue over mine, tugged gently at my lower lip with his teeth, while Daniel licked and sucked from my collarbone to my jaw line. My heart pounded in my stomach. Two sets of hips grinding on me. So many hands roaming my body; under my breasts, on my back, at my waistline, in my hair. One set of hands turned me quickly. John nipped at my earlobe, kissed down my neck; Daniel enveloped my face between his hands, the kiss from his smooth, full lips a contrast to the rough stubble dotting his cheeks and jawline. My whole body was electrified. Every new touch was a jolt straight to my core. Daniel grasped my chin and turned my head, kissing the end of my cheekbone, and guiding me back to John’s lips. I was flooded with sensation and disbelief. These two men were wordlessly acting in concert for my pleasure, passing me between them. Lust mingled with the liquor in my bloodstream. I was drunk on pheromones. What I wanted couldn’t happen in a public space.