"welcome boys!" jack cheers as we approach the front door of his standard looking middle class home.
"thanks for inviting us man," nick grins, butting his cigarette, "it's been a while."
"it sure has."a girl is throwing up in the dense bushes beside us, and a few feet further away a couple is arguing about something petty. just your typical house party.
clay puts his elbow on my shoulder, using me as an armrest while nick catches up with his old friend.
"how you doin' shorty?"
i glance up at him to find that he's smirking and giving me that unbearably hot look of his. normally i would've been fuming over the whole armrest situation, but because clay is clay i just giggle and go red.
"i'm doing just fine."
jack flips his greased up brown hair and starts showing us inside, occasionally stopping to say some words to strangers passing by. a well-known edm song is blasting on full volume as we enter. people are scattered everywhere; some are taking shots by the kitchen counter, some are dancing on the living room table and some are lounging on the couch, smoking weed.
nick dives straight towards the stoners, as per usual. they're his family. i grab clay by his wrist, pulling him over to the drinks and eyeing them up.
"i don't wanna get too drunk honestly, i just wanna enjoy the night," i tell him, picking up a random shot glass and pouring it straight down my throat. i cringe slightly at the burning sensation, even though i'm used to it.
"then i'll enjoy it with you," he smiles, replicating my action.
"i never would've thought you liked parties."
"well then you thought wrong," he laughs, "i've done a fair share of crazy shit in my life, it's just that i haven't had the time to go out and have fun lately. youtube, you know.""yet you still travel all the way over to this shithole to meet me and nick and sleep on the streets every night? i love your logic."
he takes another shot before sticking his tongue out at me and pointing towards an empty corner on the couch, barely visible because of all the moving bodies in the way.
"you wanna go smoke?"
"of course."clay takes my hand as i reach the other out to grab a nearly empty bottle of gin for drinking. our fingers perfectly intertwine, and as if the temperature in the room wasn't already high enough, it just rose by another 10 degrees.
he safely leads me through the crowd of people and pulls me down to sit with him when we've found our spots. i put my leg up over his, feeling a bit more confident now that i've got some alcohol in my system. even though there's practically no need to hold my hand anymore, clay doesn't let go. it makes me feel special.
at the other side of the couch nick has pitched his tent for the night. he's surrounded by a group of girls, intently looking at him blow impressive smoke rings of all shapes and sizes. they giggle and ask for lessons. no wonder nick is such a smoke ring magician considering he spent all four of his high school years sitting on his ass doing this. and i don't blame the girls for crowding around him, he's a pretty damn hot guy if i can say so myself. i'm just worrying about what's to come after he's done with his shenanigans since i don't think he can take six girls at once.
i watch clay roll a blunt with dreaming eyes. the flashing lights accentuate his already attractive features, and i just can't take my eyes off of him. i'm falling way too hard.
he lights up and then passes it to me. as i take my drag, he lets go of my hand to instead wrap his arm around me, pulling me a little closer. carefully i rest my head on his shoulder, sighing contently. i can feel my body and mind relaxing, mostly from the weed but also from clay's touch.
it all feels surreal, like a never ending dream. i take a small sip from the bottle of gin, letting my brain wander. not even the loud music disturbs our moment.
YOU ARE READING
california world - dreamnotfound
Fanfictionin which george is a street kid in downtown los angeles and clay is a struggling youtuber from florida trying to support his best friend. ~~~ tw; alcohol & drug use, violence, swearing, homophobia, implications of smut no warnings in chapters. the c...