halo fifteen (scomiche)

My Moral Standing Is Lying Down

Scott nods his thanks to the bartender as he takes drink number - 3? 4? whatever - of the evening and turns his attention back to the dance floor. He's focused on two important missions tonight: get drunk and dance with cute boys. Everything else is filler. He just needs to get enough alcohol in him to calm his nerves sufficiently to do something more than stand in the shadows, trembling and feeling insecure. He feels too tall, he feels like he's dressed all wrong, and he has no idea how to dance to this music. He has no idea how to behave at all, really; he's never been to a club before, let alone a gay friendly one, most especially never to a goth one, and it's only through careful observation that he was able to timidly order his first drink from a bar with his fake ID burning a hole in his pocket.

The drinking's gotten easier, at least. He hopes the cute boys and the dancing will follow soon.

His eyes scan the club again. It's not what he'd been expecting. It's smaller than he thought it would be, though that might be more illusory due to the fact that the walls are painted mostly black. There's a whole lot of black, actually. At least he fits with the color scheme, though his black jeans and plain black tee are downright conservative compared to the elaborate outfits most of the dancers are wearing. There's a haze of cigarette smoke which, combined with the fairly rudimentary light system, gives the place an otherworldly feel. Maybe that's just the alcohol talking, though. He tries to sway in time with the music again and he's beginning to feel a little more comfortable. This song is familiar. He's seen it on MTV a few times - Susie something or another. He even manages to hum along with the chorus as Susie wails "Peek-a-boo!" from the booming speakers.

He's definitely feeling that last drink, a pleasant warmth taking over and his trembling hands calming. Scott examines the dance floor carefully, watching the swaying bodies and trying to memorize the way everyone dips and stomps and makes grand, sweeping gestures with their arms. It doesn't look so hard. One more drink, just to calm the last of his nerves, and he's going to get out of the shadows and maybe onto the dance floor.

As he sips vodka tonic number 4 or 5, his eyes again find the cute boy he's been trying not to stare at since he'd arrived. There are kind of a ridiculous number of cute boys but he keeps coming back to this one. He's thin with dark hair falling past his shoulders, eyes smudged with khol and lips painted black, a silver piercing glinting from his septum and another in the middle of his bottom lip. He stands out, his white peasant blouse a beacon in the sea of black. Scott's only seen him leave the dance floor to smoke a quick cigarette or to gulp down a drink at the bar - otherwise he's been in the same corner, nearest the speakers, stomping and swaying like an extension of the music itself. He wants to approach him but has no idea how. Maybe he could dance near him and try to catch his eye? Offer to buy him a drink? He may not even be gay; he kind of gives off the vibe but he's seen a few others tonight who pinged his gaydar before dancing near and dirty with a girl. It's hard to tell with these goth boys and he's the furthest thing from an expert when it comes to anything gay or gay-related..

Scott waits too long. A thin, tattooed guy with an impressive black mohawk begins dancing ever-closer to Mr. Peasant Blouse and gets a smile of welcome. They look good dancing together; Mr. Tattoos knows the music and how to move to it. Scott's shoulders slump and he drains the rest of his drink. Damn. He goes back to scanning the floor for other options, wishing someone cute would just approach him so he didn't have to feel so lost and awkward.

A couple songs later Scott has managed to work up the nerve to stand right up next to the dance floor, holding a fresh drink he really doesn't want but figured he should get so he'd have something to do with his hands. Getting out of the corner he'd been hiding in has helped some, but so far all the flirty glances he's received have been from women. He sways a little and scans the crowd once more.