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The party was loud and crowded and dark. The music pounded, the base almost shaking the room, and people sat on the arms of couches, talking, kissing, smoking. The only light came from lamps and lighters, the misdeeds of the people hidden from the eyes of god.
Nick sat on a counter, staring blankly at the crowd of people, sipping from a plastic cup. Cal sat next to him, his head leaning against Nick’s shoulder, his eyes closed. Nick had forgotten why they had come here - perhaps the promise of alcohol and weed mixed with a need for human company drew them, the desire to exist in a place with others who have the same fears and anxieties.
They may have sat there for hours, or maybe just minutes, but soon enough they returned to reality, Cal yanking Nick off the counter, his eyes alight with mirth as a guitar solo gave way to lyrics.
He began to sing, quietly, and Nick finally recognized the song.
Stop makin’ the eyes at me
Cal pulled Nick close, slinging his arms over his shoulders and swaying slightly.
I’ll stop makin’ the eyes at you
What it is that surprises me
Is that I really don’t want you to
Nick grins, a smirk just barely showing his teeth, and presses his forehead to Cal’s, murmuring the next lyrics.
And your shoulders are frozen
Oh, but you’re an explosion
At that he moved to dip Cal, ending up nearly dropping him. Cal snickers softly, stepping on Nick’s toes.
Nick leans in even closer, and Cal’s hands tighten around his neck.
Your name isn’t Rico, but I don’t care for sand
And lighting the fuse might result in a bang, bang
Cal closes the gap and they’re kissing, still swaying in the kitchen, the music loud around them.
I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
I don’t know if you’re looking for romance, or
I don’t know what you’re looking for
I said, I bet you look good on the dance floor
Dancing to electro pop like a robot from 1984
Well, from 1984
They break apart and Cal grins, pushing Nick further away and grabbing his hand, beginning to pull and push the other boy in the awkward way teenagers at school dances do with their friends during slow songs.
Wrapped up in their own world, the pair danced, ignoring all others, until finally they broke out of the haze as a tall boy yelled out Nick’s name over the booming base.
Nick flashed out of his tranquility, letting go of Cal as turned around to look at the culprit. There were several people in the kitchen, mostly leaning against walls or pouring themselves another drink, but one man was looking at Nick. He was tall and blonde, his hair slicked back and his crooked teeth formed in something like a smile. As Nick looked him over, he felt the shock of recognition as he reached the ratty yellow converse. His face broke into a crooked smirk, and he walked towards the boy.
“Fletch! What’re you doing here?”
The other boy gestured wildly, a manic grin plastered on his face “Eh, college was boring and expensive, so I headed back. ‘M training to do some tattoo work now, but Lee’s letting me stay here til’ I get certified,” He paused as if he got an idea, and his grin grew even wider, if such a thing were possible, “Actually, you always talked about getting a tattoo, yeah?”
Nick nodded, wrapping his arm around Cal’s shoulder, “Yeah,”
Fletch punched Nick lightly, and Cal pressed more into his shoulder.
“Yo, I can give you one! I got a stick n’ poke setup in the back, hell I’d even give it for free,” he chuckled, “Old friends and all.”
Nick took a sip of his drink, looking around the room, before turning to Cal.
“Whaddya think babe?”
Cal blushed at the name, rolling his eyes at Nick, “You can’t, not eighteen yet.”
Nick snorted, nudging the other boy’s cup, “Kinda a hypocrite there aren’t ya,” he looked over at Fletch who looked thoroughly uncomfortable with third wheeling, “But he’s right - Glenn’s alright about most things, but if he saw I got a tattoo before it’s legal he’d kill me.”
Fletch rolled his shoulders, his grin back in full force, “I can hide it somewhere - not dirty like you’re thinkin’ - just like your foot or something.”
Nick mulled it over, flicking his eyes over to Cal who just shrugged, and whispered, “Do what you want.”
Fletch broke into a grin as Nick nodded and pushed away from the counter.
“Alright! Come on back - your boyfriend can come too if he wants.”
He led the pair through the living room and down a hall, opening a door to reveal a tiny bedroom with a twin mattress. He turned around and walked backwards into the room, his arms spread wide, “Welcome to my humble abode.”
Nick laughed sarcastically, dropping onto the mattress with Cal as Fletch jumbled through a crate, gesturing behind him vaguely.
“Alright, take off your shoes and stuff - what do you want?” he turned, holding the kit, “Nothin’ too advanced hopefully.”
Nick pulled off his sneaker as instructed and thought back to the hours he had spent contemplating what tattoos he wanted.
“A skateboard.”
Fletch tossed his head forward as he laughed lowly, “Should've expected that, huh.”
Nick shrugged, shoving his foot towards him, “I guess.”
There was silence as Fletch wiped off the foot with a cotton ball, and then he glanced up at Nick.
“‘M bout to start. Might wanna bite down on something.”
He nodded, and grabbed Cal’s hand squeezing it slightly, and then much tighter as the first prick of the needle was felt.
“Holy shit, fuck, goddamn, motherfucker! ” he hissed, screwing his face up and digging his nails into Cal’s.
They sat there for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been longer than thirty minutes, the pain slowly decreasing as he got used to it. Finally, Fletch disinfected once more, and backed up, smirking a little at Nick’s pained face.
“All done - want a picture?”
Nick nodded, and Flech crouched down, snapping a quick photo. He passed off the phone to Nick - it was low quality, but Nick could make out the dark ink forming a simple board, just a line and some wheels.
Nick grinned at the sight, tossing the phone back to Fletch as he swung his foot up and into Cal’s lap.
“Look babe!”
Cal rolled his eyes at Nick’s antics, but smiled at the tattoo, “It looks good ‘Las.”
He blushed at the nickname and turned back to Fletch, who was watching them with an odd look. He seemed to snap out of it as Nick looked at him expectantly, smirking at the pair.
“Alright, you just gotta keep it covered - I’ll bandage it in a minute - and try not to walk or wear shoes for a while,” he looked thoughtful for a second, “Probably aroun’ two weeks?”
Nick nodded, and leaned onto Cal, “Means you’ll have to carry me, huh babe.”
Cal snorts, “Yeah right.”
Nick grins up at his boyfriend's face, “You know you will.”
He sighs affectionately, closing his eyes, “Yeah I will.”