Scream

Kellin Kodiak

From the outside, the house looked big. Inside, the house is enormous. A disco ball hangs from the living room, speakers pump awesome music, a banner saying EPICSONLY hangs from the railing of a hallway that overlooks the scene. To me, the setting is natural. I used to be the kid in the back with a flask of liquor, eyeing the crowd. But now I'm excited to have fun.

Grayson on the other hand is tense, and he jerks around whenever someone bumps into him. 

I guide him to a bar, where a hired barista and bartender work the area. They take orders, shake and stir drinks, and set up lines of shots with glasses laced in salt. I saddle up next to some steroid-taking jock and order two shots. "Hey," the guy says, eyes glassy and veined with red. He smells like weed. His eyes scan me before he asks me a question. 

"Want a body partner?" 

"I've already got one," I inform as the shots are placed in front of Grayson and me. I throw the drink to the back of my throat and swallow while Gray takes hesitant sips. 

"Oh, him?" the jock understandably nods to another one of his own companions.

"No, him..." I nod at Grayson who cringes when he licks the salt on accident.

The jock laughs. "You're joking, right?"

"Not at all," I surprise him.

"Well he looks a little busy right now..." the guy says as Grayson knocks someone else's drink over by accident. "So how about you ditch the loser?"

Grayson looks over, face splattered with guilt for aggravating someone else. He registers that we're talking about him. "Hm? What's going on?"

"Hey dude," the jock says to the undercover Desk Guy. "You mind if we do a body shot instead of you?"

"Go for it," he mumbles, asking for a beer, presumably so he can take sips and not look like he's never been out before. 

 I can't help but feel a little let down that he doesn't care if I'm licking some other guy. Maybe Reyna and I got it all wrong and he really doesn't like me. "You on me or me on you?" I ask. 

"I'll take a look at you first," he slyly remarks. "Considering you're probably new to this, how about we just start off -?" 

 I end his words by stripping my shirt and leaning over to order a body shot from the bartender. He chuckles and mumbles something in Spanish before clearing the counter. Grayson looks over and takes in the area around him...AKA me. His jaw drops open and he basically drools. "On second thought, I think I'll do that shot now," he speaks up, voice cracking.

"Oh, no, no, no, no," the jock says. "You said no, so now it's my turn." Concealing a small smile, I notice redness in Grayson's cheeks. "I don't think he's ever done this before," I say to No Name. "How about we give him a chance?"

No Name sighs with disgust and walks away. I lay on the table as Grayson asks, "How do I do this?"

 "Lick the trail of salt, drink the shot, suck the lime," I explain. "Simple."

The bartender pours tequila in the hollow of my neck, sprinkles a trail of salt down the middle of my body to my belly button, and puts a lime wedge in my mouth. "Fiesta!" he shouts, watching Grayson and me with anticipation. 

Visibly, Gray gulps and casts me a wary glance. "There's no way to lick the salt without being on the bar," he states the obvious.

"Then get on the bar top!" the bartender shouts, basically pulling Grayson over the counter. "You ever done this before?"

"Never," he confesses, nervous as hell.

"Well you're a luck first-timer," he says with a wink. "Now lick and drink!"

Anxiously, he starts to take the salt, tongue trailing up my body. Clumsily, he climbs on top of me and sucks the alcohol. He hesitates when he gets to the lime between my teeth. But with the help of a cheering crowd, he takes it and eats it.

The watchers cheer and clap their bottles against the bar in congratulations. Sitting up, I throw my shirt back on. "You do all that, then hesitate on the lime?"

 "What? I'm nervous!" he defends. Now, all of his body is red in one mad blush.

"My turn," I chirp, sliding off the top.

"We're taking turns?"

"You bet," I confirm. "Now let's see what I'm working with."

"Kellin," he stresses under his breath. "I'm..." he sighs. "I'm not like those guys."Grayson gestures towards No Name and his buddy. 

"If I wanted one of those guys, then I would've been with one of them," I justify. "And who cares what anyone thinks?"

"I do."

"Well, you shouldn't, Grayson," I assure softly. 

Grayson slumps his shoulders and reluctantly strips himself of his shirt, laying down on the bar. The bartender does to him what he does to me. I expect Grayson to be some ultra-skinny kid whose ribs poke out everywhere for him to be so self-conscious. but I'm just plain confused. 

He looks good. Like, really good. He's tan, sculpted, and strong. "I thought you were just the desk guy!" I shout over the music. 

"I am!" he renders. "Let's just get this over with." 

I start the trail of salt and run my hand over Grayson. I feel his heart beating hard and fast beneath his warm skin. He's always so scared and so nervous, and as I start drinking the shot, his chest rises and falls at a rapid pace. I can't help but laugh at the fact that he's so nervous about how he looks when he looks like a 10/10. Some of the tequila spills out of the hollow of his neck when I chuckle and Grayson flinches. 

It comes down to the lime, and for a second, I hover over him. His eyes are laced in concern and curiosity – a cute look for him. Instead of eating the lime, I kiss him. His hazel eyes widen in shock before accepting what's happening. Once he comes to terms with my actions, he relaxes and kisses me, too; the lime getting lost in our mouths. 

 I find it again, finish the kiss, and get up. I spit the chewed lime into a shot glass as the crowd jumps up and down. Grayson again flushes with waves of all kinds of red. "What was that?" he asks, flustered.

"A body shot," I explain, a coy smile on my lips. "With a twist of Kellin."

 Grayson's eyes are wide, and for a second I think he's horrified. But then his gaping mouth turns into a grand smile and he laughs. "I think I liked it." 

 "Want to go again?"

He looks like he's about to say yes when his eyes settle on someone at the party.
Turning, I look to see No Name and his buddy pointing at Enzo, who lingers at the snack table and takes everything in. The two laugh and start to approach him. "Uh-oh. That's not  good."

"For Enzo or the other two?" I inquire, watching.

"Who do you think?"

"Right," I agree. "Let's go save the jocks."