The lights were blaring and the music was put on the highest of volume, joined with the slurs of the personas that were trying to dance with it. Most of them failed, but others were owning it, taking every chance to show off. They weren't drunk as in with beer or wine-alcohol wasn't available to them-but they were drunk with life. They were crazy; all they wanted to do was to scream and yell and generally have a good time, for today had been quite a sad day, and they needed a pick-me-up to raise their spirits.

Wilford and Dark were a part of the crowd. Instead of staying in their rooms to keep to themselves, they both decided to relieve some stress. Neither knew of each other's presence.

"Come on Wilford!" Beaniplier yelled at the reporter, trying to make himself heard over the music. "Go out on the dance floor and strut your stuff!"

Wilford chuckled, amused at the new way the usually reserved, shy little Beanie's personality had changed. He wasn't as affected by the excitement that was spreading through the crowd like wildfire as others were, but he still had that little urge to go jumping around and have some fun. "I think I'd rather keep my dignity!" He shouted back, giggling in the middle, distorting his words.

Beanie smiled, grabbed his arm yelling a "Too bad!" to him before dragging him quickly through the sea of personas to the empty circle that they had made for the dances. Now, Wilford was trying to pull his arm away, but the other had an unusually firm grip on him, so there was no chance of escape.

Once they were finally to the edge, Beanie turned to the reporter, mouthed "good luck", and threw him into the empty circle.

He stumbled, almost tripping on his feet and landing flat on his face. Once he had his balance, he noticed people turning around to look and alerting others of his presence.

'Oh shit.' He thought.

He was turning in circles, trying to find a way-

Suddenly, an object slammed into back, causing him to fly forward, heading for the floor. Before he could touch the ground, arms wrapped around his waist, turned him around and giving him a clear picture of who was standing over him and holding him up. His eyes met dark ones.

"Hey Willy." Dark said to him, now close enough so that he didn't have to shout. The demon shot him a smile.

The reporter felt a light blush creep across his cheeks, maybe from the embarrassment of being in that position with everyone watching, or the way that Dark was looking at him. Maybe both.

The crowd around them slowly got louder, noticing the two rivals' position, until they were practically screaming. Both of the men looked around them, Dark with a smile and Wilford with a shocked expression.

"Get off me!" He shouted, pushing the other away and standing up on his own feet. Dark stumbled back, laughing a bit from the other's embarrassment. He was in the same state as the reporter was: not quite drunk, but a little loopy. Wilford growled, trying to get his face to its natural color.

"Oh come on!" Dark shouted, and the other personas started to quiet down, the talk obviously catching their attention. "Loosen up a little Willy!"

Wilford flinched. He hated that damn nickname that the demon gave him to annoy him, and he used it all the time. If his face wasn't hot before, it was now, and he could hear chuckling in the silent crowd.

"No."

"But-"

"No! I didn't want to come to this foolish party anyway!" He cried, glaring at his rival before turning on his heel and walking away, watching as the crowd parted. He was done, and he needed to calm down and get rid of this prickly feeling in his chest. He tried to hide the nervousness that was boiling up inside of him with all the eyes that were glued to him, waiting for his next move.

Before he could get far though, he felt a hand grip his arm like before and pull him back. Another hand grabbed his own, twisting him around to where he was facing Dark again.

The music was still blaring as he looked into his eyes, who were glistening in the red irises from the flashing lights and half-lidded. Time seemed to slow down for the two as they stared at each other, Dark inching closer to his lips. He snaked a hand through Wilford's neon pink hair, deciding to focus on how his breath hitched rather than the screams and shouts that were urging him on.

"Just go with it." He whispered against his lips, soon connecting them.

Wilford's stomach was doing flips as Dark's lips moved against his own. The other's hand found his way into his, intertwining them together while his other arm wrapped around the reporter's back to keep him up, because Wilford's legs were threatening to give out from under him.

The kiss only lasted seconds, but it felt like hours. They soon broke away, gasping for air even though they were only at it for a few moments. The crowd went ballistic-raising there arms in the air and screaming their heads off.

Now Wilford's face was nearly completely red, and a blush crept onto Dark's face as well. He chuckled at his expression.

The reporter's fist connected with the demon's jaw, sending him backward and causing him to drop him. Landing on the ground, he collected himself, determined not to give himself up to Dark and the strange feelings that were making his heart beat faster than it should be. Picking himself up, he broke through the barrier of personas and ran towards his room. He noticed Beanie following him and shouting, but he blocked him out.

...

Dark's face was still sore after a few minutes, and he gently rubbed it with his hand. He was sitting on the floor next to Google IRL, who thought it would be good to try and help.

"Your jaw may experience slight swelling and quite a large bruise will form there. It would be in your best interest to get an ice bag." He informed Dark, who was still staring the way that Wilford had run. Google noticed his distant nature. "Knowing Wilford Warfstache, that reaction was to be expected."

"What?" Dark asked, snapped out of his trance.

"I wouldn't have expected anything else from him." Google stated, looking over at the demon. "From what I've noticed, he doesn't really know how to deal with his emotions very well." He smiled. "I think that it was either the embarrassment that you did that that caused the strike, or the fact that he likes you and it made him get butterflies."

Dark looked back at the path Wilford had taken. "Hm. I really hope it's because he likes me, because I don't think he's gotten the hint yet."

…

Found a video with ken and pewds kissing so it inspired me to write this.