Caelyx
IT’D BEEN A while since I’d gone to a party, so I was having a good time just shooting the shit with people I barely knew, and soaking in the hectic, chaotic atmosphere.
We’d driven pretty far out from the road, past what felt like millions of rows of corn, to the cleared out space where everything was set up.
There wasn’t a house around for miles, and no businesses.
Being so isolated, so disconnected from the risk of being seen or heard by anyone, least of all anyone of authority from BBU, put a fat dose of electric tension in the air.
It showed in the way people were grinding on each other on the dance floor and leaned up against every available surface, making out with each other.
EDM was pumping from the speakers set up around the DJ booth.
The deep bass sent pulses of vibration out in rhythmic waves to wash over the crowd of dancers.
For the moment, Arie and Che were right in the thick of it.
They were both dressed appropriately for the theme, and just a bit slutty, in cropped hoodies that showed their twin bellybutton piercings.
Arie’s bright pink hair was sprayed with glitter that sparkled madly when the light hit it, and there were colorful clips threaded through Che’s jet black bangs.
I’d once told the two of them that they should do porn together, because they’d definitely dominate any and all twink categories, but to my knowledge, they had not yet heeded my suggestion.
I had a feeling if they did heed my suggestion, they probably wouldn’t go out of their way to let me know.
And I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be getting a cut of any of the profits either, despite my helpful suggestion.
I was surprised how sexy and seductive they were being, stopping just short of vulgar as they moved their bodies together in the crowd.
As I watched, Che hooked an arm around Arie’s neck, pulling him in even closer, before glancing back over his own shoulder at something outside of the crowd.
Arie was shooting bedroom eyes in the same direction, so I couldn’t help but follow their line of sight.
My eyebrows shot up when I saw Cyprian, standing just outside the dance floor. He looked a bit unnerved and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he should be doing what he was doing, but he was watching them. And they knew he was watching them.
Well… Not my business.
I gently nudged through the dense horde, pointedly ignoring both the interested glances and obvious gestures of invitation from some of the dancers I passed by.
Under other circumstances, I would have been perfectly willing to lean into it and pick out a hot girl or guy to bring home.
But I hadn’t done that since last year. My mind was too fixated on someone else.
Tiki torches with little flames flickering in the cool breeze were propped artfully around the space, and the DJ booth had fairy lights strung all around it, but once I’d made my way through the main area, the main source of light was from the moon and the neon glowsticks and accessories nearly everyone seemed to be sporting.
Arie had them all over, and he’d even combined a couple into a larger circle and put them around Che’s neck like a choker.
Working my way over to where the drinks were, I didn’t bother thinking about the kegs or the giant vat of suspicious cocktail that had been mixed up for the party, probably from a haphazard mix of juices and rums and vodkas.
Leaning down and digging around in a cooler until my hand closed around a can of soda, I pulled it out and shook off the chilly water.
I’d been keeping an eye on Aspen since we’d arrived, letting him do his own thing and mingle with acquaintances.
I didn’t want to smother him, at least not enough that he’d notice and complain, so I’d hung back out of his way.
But I’d waited long enough, and now he was finally standing by himself.
He was further out from the music and speakers, where it was quieter and less crowded.
Even further out from him was a giant barn, where more scattered little groups of people were congregating, and lots more couples sucking face.
I devoured Aspen with my eyes as I walked up.
He was staring off into space, his posture totally relaxed.
I almost never got to see him like that.
He wasn’t wearing anything special, just combat boots and ripped up jeans, in his usual black.
His flannel button-up was rolled up to his elbows, showcasing the colorful tattoos on his forearms. Back when we’d first met, I’d asked him why all of his tattoos were so bright and sparkly, since he only liked wearing black all the time, and he’d told me to fuck off and mind my own business.
Either way, the contrast was really cute.
I’d never been into that edgy style of person, the whole piercings and tats thing.
But I’d been hooked from the first time we’d met.
He’d glared at me for saying something obnoxious, his hazel eyes hot and narrowed, framed by dark eyeliner and thick fringes of lashes.
So I was maybe a bit of a masochist. Who knew?
He finally noticed me, and my pulse skipped as I anticipated his reaction. When his posture didn’t change and his cute lips didn’t shift into a frown as I approached, my stomach fluttered.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, returning my greeting with a small head nod.
Popping the tab on the soda, I took a long sip before pushing it into his hands. His fingertips brushed me as he took it, his eyes locked on mine as he drank. It was pathetic, but the extended eye contact had my dick twitching in my jeans, already half hard.
“Having fun, Cupcake?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered lightly, and I was suddenly very glad we were far enough away from the music that we didn’t need to yell.
I loved the sexy little rasp in his voice when he was speaking softly.
“Maybe not as much fun as some people,” he added, jerking his chin over to where everyone had parked.
There were two guys dry humping, practically fucking, on the hood of a car.
I couldn’t tell if I knew either of them.
Clearing my throat, I shifted so my back was to them. That was the last thing I needed in my line of sight, when Aspen already had me popping a boner without even trying.
“That does look fun,” I commented, tilting my head in acknowledgment.
He chuckled, and took another sip of soda.
It could have been awkward, standing there remarking on two guys about to blow their loads in such close proximity to us, but it was weirdly natural, just being there with him.
And for once, it seemed like the feeling was mutual.
“Did you go to a lot of parties in high school?” I wondered, after a comfortable stretch of silence. On one side of us, there was music and laughter and cheers from the crowd. On the other side, toward the barn, there was a soft breeze rustling through the cornstalks and the chirp of crickets.
He snorted, giving me an odd look. “No.”
“Really?” I was surprised. “Why not?”
“I wasn’t really invited to parties.”
The brief flash of unhappiness on his face was enough to make my stomach muscles clench.
“I would have invited you,” I offered quickly, hoping to get rid of it.
He stared at me for a few moments, thoughtfully.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” he finally said. “But that’s fine.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, and so neutrally, that I felt like I couldn’t argue.
I didn’t really want to think about if he was right or not.
He wouldn’t have fit in with the people I’d known at the elite private school I’d attended, but…
I liked him so much. I was pretty sure that gut punch of attraction I’d experienced meeting him would have happened no matter what.
“Did you see Kelani’s outfit?” I asked, after another long period of quiet. To my relief, he grinned a little, nodding.
“Yeah, I think she got ready with Arie and Che. They definitely went all out.” They’d all painted their nails with neon glowing polish, and had brushed colorful makeup onto their eyes and cheeks.
“You should have put that glowy stuff on your nails,” I told him, reaching out to where his hand was hanging at his side and gently lifting it up so the light reflected off his usual black nail polish.
He chuckled a little, but didn’t pull his hand back for a few seconds. When he did, it was careless, like he was just returning it to its natural resting place. Not like he’d been eager to break the contact between us.
“Not my style.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I told him, even though the mystery of the ultra-cutesy tattoos was still unsolved. I wasn’t going to push my luck and ask about them now. “Too cute and happy for edgy little emo boys, right?”
“I’m not cute and happy?” He questioned, a mock surprise coloring his voice. He didn’t sound offended in the least, like the idea that he wasn’t cute was just a given that didn’t even need to be confirmed.
But I hadn’t meant it that way. He wasn’t that kind of cute, with the fluttering eyelashes and coy remarks. He was hot and intense. The way his eyes could smolder sometimes, it made me feel like I was burning alive.
“I didn’t say that,” I responded quickly, and he ran his tongue around his teeth, glancing up toward the starlit sky. “You’re not cute. I mean, you are, but you’re more than that. Cute doesn’t even start to cover it.”
“You know, I can never tell when you’re fucking with me or when you’re being serious,” he remarked, and my eyebrows drew together.
“You think I’m fucking with you?” I asked. The incredulous expression on his face mirrored my own feelings. “I’m not. Seriously.”
He looked thoughtful for a few seconds, but ultimately shook his head, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “No, I know you’re not doing it on purpose or whatever. It’s just funny to you. I get that. It’s fine.”
“I’m not trying to be funny,” I insisted. “Really.”