Amaranthine: Descent | WinTeam | Boyslove

Relax

Team took his time getting dressed after swim practice ended. He eavesdropped on A, Bee and Sea talking about blowing off some steam behind him. Dean had relented in his punishment, freeing his schedule and resuming his boyfriend duties for Pharm. If Team had to guess why his sentence prematurely ended, a certain someone had intervened and gotten his way.

Bee stopped discussing their plan when he noticed Team in suspended animation, his shirt pausing halfway up his back. He nudged Sea and A, snickering. Team's skin prickled from being watched and turned to see the three of them huddled together grinning at him.

"What?" Team asked.

"Those extra practices make your brain malfunction or something?" Bee teased him.

"Huh? No." Team shook away the memory of the grueling sprint ladders from the previous week. "Just tired. Between Dean and my, uh, classes, I'm exhausted."

"Oh." Bee looked contemplative. "Never mind, then."

"Come with us, Team!" Sea pushed on, ignoring his previous comment. Bee shot him a sideward glance, Sea's focus on having fun paramount.

"It's Friday, man. You can sleep it off tomorrow," A chimed in next.

Team had considered asking to tag along with the trio anyway, though what he needed was rest. His nightmares continued to plague him—even daytime naps were no longer safe. Then tack on Win randomly crossing his path a couple times after practice... Eh, screw it. Team shut his locker with resolve. This was what being young and a freshman in college was all about, right?

"Alright, count me in."

Team stared up at the trendy exterior of the club his friends had dragged him to. He had no experience with venues like these, preferring a relaxed pub atmosphere the few times he had drank since starting college. Blue LED lights framed geometric patterns adorning the outside of the two-story club. Colorful strobing lights and music bled into the street from within. He hadn't understood why Bee had harassed him until he agreed to change out of his t-shirt and worn jeans, but now he did. He fidgeted, feeling completely out of place. Bee clapped a hand on Team's back, adding to his anxiety.

"Come on, man! I heard great things about this place. And you're finally free from Dean's sadism." Bee grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Pretty girls. Strong drinks. Friday night. No class or practice tomorrow." Sea took a deep inhale of the night air while gazing up at the building, hope shining in his eyes. "What more could we ask for?" He squeezed Team's shoulders.

Team blinked, adjusting to the inky darkness and pulsing lights inside the club, "Calix." Weird name. The—packed—dance floor swallowed up the spacious interior, spanning between the bar and stage. He regarded the towering display of glittering liquor bottles above the ornate wooden bar, again wondering if he was in the wrong place. Team clung to Bee's hip after they all secured their drinks. To his relief, Calix wasn't only dance floor, the foursome settling at a table in the back corner.

As he drank, Team noticed people in various states of intoxication, dancing to the throbbing "music." The noise, because that was what it was, made him feel claustrophobic. He fought the impulse to stick his fingers in his ears, though it would do fuck all. The driving beat set by the DJ permeated everything—even his bones vibrated.

Two drinks deep, Bee disappeared into the crowd while Sea and A remained. They mostly chatted to themselves, if you could call shouting into each other's ears "chatting." Across the table and out of shout distance, Team sat with his thoughts. He studied the drink he nursed. Fuck it, he decided and downed the rest. He didn't come here to watch ice cubes melt. If he got a little drunk, maybe he'd fall asleep and stay that way—worse ideas existed.