Honey Drip // Danny Wagner

Part II // Chapter II

As always, all feedback welcome! I think y'all know how much this fic means to me & I really hope you enjoy this new chapter.

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"I love that your parents left so you could have a party," I remarked loudly to Josh, sending my voice to sound over the record playing from the family room. "Like, who does that?"

He laughed. "Only them. They partied with us earlier."

It was good to see all of them again. It wasn't just Danny's hair that had gotten longer–Josh's curls had grown out into long, loose ringlets and swirls; Sam's hair was past his shoulders and gleaming as he ran his hand through it, hip cocked as he stood across the room with a beer in his hand; Jake was somewhere else, probably with Danny, and I'd run my fingers through his hair when we'd hugged, its just-barely-there wave extending to his collarbones and then some. All of them were beautiful and very apparently more grown-up, even being so young.

I nudged Josh with my elbow. "Take charge of the music. We need something to groove to. Sam's such a stick in the mud."

"Until he gets shitfaced and sets something on fire," Josh chuckled, bringing his drink to his lips.

"Even still. What are we listening to?" I tilted my head, focusing on the droning sounds of acoustic guitar and flinty, melodramatic vocals. No one could dance to this, though I was sure no one at the party would ever say anything about it except me.

I went over to Sam, thankfully not needing to make a half-assed attempt at politely dragging him away from a conversation. He turned to me, a huge, buzzed smile on his face. "What's up, buttercup?"

"Sam, can you please let someone else choose the music?" I asked. "You guys have that nice stereo. Someone can put a playlist on."

He grimaced before smirking. "You don't like it?"

"I don't hate it, but it's not music you can move to."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand, taking me to the center of the room. "Yes, you can," he said and placed both his hands on my waist, his beer resting against me.

I put my arms over his shoulders and let him start to sway. The alcohol had simultaneously made him a better and worse dancer, like his muscles were loose and relaxed but he still had too much of a white boy rhythm to really get into the groove.

I laughed a little and he smiled. "What?"

"Nothing," I replied, laughing harder. "You're drunker than I thought. How much have you had?"

"Not enough," he chirped, bringing his beer to his lips. "Catch up."

"I will," I promised, taking a sip of my drink too. We kept swaying a little awkwardly, then suddenly Sam's record was cut short, replaced with some thumping, heavy-footed pop song.

Sam groaned, throwing his head back.

"Oh, what, Sammy?" I said, laughing again. "Not good enough for you? Come on, we can actually dance now."

"I can't dance to this," he argued, furrowing his brow at me.

I was about to protest when Josh hurried up to us and tugged on the hem of my shirt. "Your boy is buck ass naked in the pool right now."

I snorted. "What?"

"Danny and Jake are apparently so drunk and high that they decided to take a dip," Josh went on, gesturing for Sam and I to follow him. "It's all the kids are talking about."

"Without me?" Sam shrieked, knocking back the rest of his beer.

It was true–Danny and Jake were swimming in the cool, rippling blue waters of the Kiszka's swimming pool like they were two teenagers in the lake at summer camp. I was surprised no one had joined them until someone did, by tearing off his pants and shirt and doing a running jump into the deep end, sending an explosion of chlorinated water over the edge.