Friends of mine.

Chatper Thirty Seven.

He looks so happy, full of joy. His eyes are lit up and his smile is wide, like I always remember seeing it. I lie on the bed, watching Nick in front of me dancing like an idiot, I soon became out of breath from dancing and pushed myself onto the bed to catch my breath, but Nick isn't easily tired like I am, and I don't think he'll let me lie down for much longer; he absolutely loves to dance, like he did when we went to clubs.
It feels like those nights when Nick and I would be dancing together, both of us completely smashed and singing at the top of our lungs and shaking the floor with the quite bad dancing we would be doing. I remember Nick would ask me if the songs were good to play at the Rum Runner, and I'd always say yes.
Although now it's different, because Nick isn't drunk, and neither am I, and it's just as good, because it's real, real emotions and real conversations, both sober.
I let out a small laugh when I hear an excited squeal escape his lips when Jean Genie starts to play, and he looks into my eyes, raising a brow at me.

"This is a tune, isn't it?"
He says, sounding slightly out of breath but as the song is loud and it feels like we're drowning in it, Nick stays dancing.

"It is, we love this one."
I reply, too caught up with watching Nick.
He looks so beautiful, every little thing about him is so perfect, and I can't help but sit back and admire him.
I watch him mouth the lyrics, knowing every word off by heart, and it makes me smile so much, my heart warms as I push myself into a sitting position, seeing Nick go to his record player and turn the music up.

"If the neighbours knock on the door you're going down to explain!"
I yell over the music, causing Nick to laugh loudly, the sound of his laughter is like a beautiful song I could listen to forever.

"Oh don't be daft, Andy!"
He exclaims back to me.

I watch him take off his jacket, my eyes wide as I admire him, his blouse adorns his small frame, his waist is small and feminine, his hands are soft and delicate, his hair is messy but in a pretty way; fucking hell, I'm really falling hard for him, aren't I?
He soon throws his jacket to me, making me jump as the smell of cologne surrounds me with his jacket on my face.

I soon hear the sound of the music becoming lower, which I didn't expect Nick to turn it down.
Once I take the jacket away from me, I gasp when I realise Nick is closer to me, putting his hands to my face, a wide smile on his face as he draws me in, and the ringing in my ears from the music seems to fade away in a moment when Nick's eyes are on mine.
He keeps his eyes on me, silence between us both, and I begin to smile, a look of confusion also on my face, he still hasn't spoke.
Before I realise what he's doing, I watch Nick lean closer, and I don't break our eyes contact like I usually would.

Excitement pushes me further forward, eyes slipping shut, and our mouths collide in quite an unexpected kiss.
Nick responds in an instant, moving his lips against mine, and I shiver all over, Nick's plump lips locked in my own. This kiss was quite a surprise, but a very pleasant one. I lift my hands to rest onto Nick's waist, needing him far closer.
We pull back for air, yet stay close enough to go back in for more. I tighten my grip and pull him closer, suddenly I feel the urge to to get my hands all over him, it's a very strange feeling that I have kept away for far too long.
This kiss feels new, it feels different. I can't describe the feeling I'm having towards this kiss, but he's kissing me like a lover, a real lover, someone he cares for, and it's the best feeling.
I gasp softly when Nick pushes my shoulders down, causing me to lie onto the bed with Nick on top of me, music blaring in the background, I feel all hot again.
Our lips brush, then meet once more. Nick tilts his head to give me better access. With that, I swipe my tongue across his bottom lip, he opens his mouth further, a high feeling washing over us both as we kiss passionately.
When we part once again, Nick stares at me with pupils blown wide, and I'm guessing I'm the same. He hasn't let me go, his hands pressed on my shoulders, holding me down as I grip his waist, but neither of us care enough to move.