Alcohol is a funny thing↠ dylmas

2

After two drinks, Dylan was doing fine. He laughed at silly things with his closest friends and started to forget about Thomas and what bothered him not so long ago. Three drinks later, the effects of alcohol started to kick in, dizziness clouded his mind and made every single thing seem funny. He didn't even think of Thomas or how he was waiting for him to arrive, or how much he likes the guy. Any of these thoughts didn't cross his mind until he heard Tyler shouting happily at the front door.

"Finally! A certain someone thought you'd never come," said his best friend. He must've been speaking very loud because his voice was clearly heard over the music — and the music was loud too, Dylan was sure about that.

Holland was talking to him about some boy she had a fling with, but Dylan lost track of the conversation from the moment he knew who was the person that had arrived; his thick english accent and slightly deep voice was heard through the room, getting closer and closer as Dylan was doing his best to pay attention to the girl in front of him. He felt a tap on his left shoulder, and even though he was a little drunk, he knew that his heart banging against his chest wasn't because of the alcohol. So he turned around and found the familiar head of dirty blonde hair he was looking for an hour ago. 

"Happy birthday!" said Thomas with a wide smile upon his face. He sounded so happy and spoke almost in the same tone he did through the phone a couple days ago. Dylan didn't find a correct answer, although a "thank you" would've been a good one, but he just couldn't make his brain work properly; maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the boy in front of him who disconnected his body from his brain and made him feel like his words got caught in his throat. 

"Umm, h-hey," Dylan replied and felt so stupid for giving such an answer like that. He smiled and Thomas took a step forward, putting his arms around his body to hug him. Dylan hugged back instantly, the scent of the older one — a mixture of the perfume he always wore and nicotine — filling his nostrils and making him feel at home. It was always like that: every time Dylan was in Thomas' arms he felt at home, even if he was already there. "Thank you."

They separated and looked at each other's eyes, and Dylan wondered if it was possible to feel so happy just by seeing someone smile. But it was possible, because Thomas had that power over him. 

"Sorry I'm late. I had a problem at the airport this afternoon and..." Thomas stopped talking and licked his lips — a bad habit of him. "Whatever. I'm sorry, Dyl." 

But Dylan didn't care at all, he just grinned at the boy who was a bit taller than him. "It's okay. You came, that's all that matters." 

"Anyway, I brought you something. Don't know if it was the best choice, but I hope you like it." He pulled a small package from behind his back, and Dylan asked himself about how he didn't see it when they hugged. 

"Wow. Thanks, man, you didn't have to." Dylan said with a smile. He took the small square box in his hands; it was blue and had a ribbon on top. 

"Oh, no. It's okay, anything for one of my best mates." 

Best mate... right, Dylan thought, his heart sinking a little when those words went through his ears. He stared at the box and suddenly didn't want to open it; maybe the next day while he was alone or something.

"Are you going to open it now?" Thomas asked. And it wasn't exactly because he was eager for his friend to see his present, it was just because Dylan was staring at it with lost eyes, perhaps way too deep in thought.

"What? Oh, no. I think I'll open it later." Dylan replied with a less genuine smile, finding it hard to feel as happy as he felt only minutes ago. He couldn't believe how something so little could affect him that much, but at the same time he knew why; he considered telling Thomas about his feelings towards him and it was just a big mistake to think it'd be a good idea. 

Thomas frowned at the younger boy, not understanding his sudden change of mood. Yes, it was visible to him, even if Dylan thought he had fooled him. "Okay. Umm... I'm going to get something to drink." And Dylan nodded then turned around quickly, making his way through the hallway to his bedroom. He still felt dizzy, but it wasn't enough; he definitely needed another drink to forget about all the things that made him sad. 

He tossed the box to his bed without minding if it fell there or on the floor. After that, he started pacing through the room, trying to calm down the urge to scream or break something; he felt so dumb just for thinking that Thomas would actually return his feelings. He sat down on the floor, back resting on one of the walls, and embraced his legs trying to soothe himself. After a few minutes he got up and took a deep breath, deciding he'd drink so much that everything would be okay again. He couldn't care less if Thomas was there to see him drunk off his ass, he just wanted to feel happy like he was before the boy arrived. 

Back at the living room a lot of his friends were dancing. They had moved the furniture and made some sort of dance floor; the lights were off and the colorful ones Tyler bought last year were on, twinkling all over the room and giving it a disco vibe. Also, the music was louder and Dylan was surprised that the neighbors hadn't complained about it yet. 

Dylan headed to the dining room to drink some vodka or whatever was left inside of the bottles. He found vodka, but not a clean plastic cup, so he chose to drink from the bottle; besides, it'd help him reach his goal of getting drunk and forgetting about every thing. Then he went back to the living room — now dance floor — and sat down on the couch, gulping the transparent alcoholic liquid and watching his friends having fun while he was trying to do the same. Thomas was there too, dancing with Kaya to an electro song and though Dylan knew Kaya had a boyfriend, actually, fiancé, he couldn't help feeling jealousy emerging from somewhere inside of him. 

What the fuck is wrong with me, he thought. I shouldn't be jealous of Kaya. They're friends, that's all. 

But the thing is, even if they were just friends, Dylan wanted to be her. He wanted to be the one dancing with him as he enjoys the sound of his laughter or sees his beautiful smile that shows off his pearly white teeth. He wanted to stare at those brown piercing eyes and get lost into them. But, unfortunately, all he could do was drink until he was incapable of thinking straight — no pun intended.