I Think I Love You | Randy

track 08. dancing queen - abba

Anybody could be that guy. The night is young and the music's high.

***

I walked into the party with a mission. First and foremost, I wanted to get fucked up and then, as a bonus, I wouldn't mind if that also resulted in me getting fucked. I was so over this bullshit with Rye, the confusion and the horniness that hadn't been there before. I needed to get rid of it for the sake of our friendship and my sanity, and the best way to do that was to let myself go and remember how good it felt to be wanted.

"Andy, come on, I wanna introduce you to my friends," Rye said, pulling me away from my thoughts and into the throng of the party.

"Can you introduce me to the ones who are single and gay first preferably?" I asked, only half joking.

"I don't even know if any of them are gay," Rye frowned. "Hasn't come up at training."

"Well, statistically, there's at least a couple-" Rye put both his hands on my shoulders, giving me a look that made me shut up.

"Babe," he said. "Chill out."

I sighed. "Sorry." He laced his fingers with mine as we wove our way through the house, looking for his friends.

"Why are you so horny at the moment?" He asked.

"God knows," I muttered, inadvertently looking down at our intertwined fingers.

Rye reached a group of guys hanging around in the kitchen, and I could tell they were his teammates just by looking at them, everything about them screaming athlete. A tall sandy blond boy embraced Rye straight away. "Hey buddy," he chuckled.

"Hey Harv," Rye greeted back. "Andy, this is Harvey. He's the captain."

"This is also my house," Harvey smiled, giving me a friendly hug as well in greeting. I immediately liked him, the way he was so easily affectionate telling me he wasn't one of those cliché homophobic jocks I'd encountered all too frequently in secondary school.

"I'm sorry," I said in response to his statement, looking around at the carnage surrounding us, half empty drinks and scores of drunk people everywhere. If this was just the beginning of the night, he would have a hell of a clean up on his hands tomorrow.

"I'm used to it," Harvey grinned back. "So you're Andy Fowler, right? The famous best friend?"

"That's me." I found myself flushing at the realisation that Rye must have talked about me a lot.

"He's so cute," Harvey said to Rye. "How tall is he?"

"He says five-six, but that's up for debate," Rye replied, laughing as I scowled at him.

"That's adorable," said Harvey.

"Well keep your hands off him, yeah?" Rye warned, his protectiveness even shining through the lightness in his tone.

"Or don't," I muttered, tilting my head. Harvey was cute.

"What was that?" Harvey smirked.

Rye hushed me before I could answer by covering my mouth with his hand. "I'm getting us drinks," he said, looking at me sternly. "Behave." I pecked his cheek, wiggling my eyebrows at him afterwards.

"You two seem close," Harvey noted after Rye had gone.

"We are."

"How long have you been friends?"

"Since we were kids," I answered, again wondering if Harvey's interest was purely friendly, or something more. I was considering whether I should ask him a bold question or just wait around for Brook when Rye returned with our drinks.