Gay Chicken | ✓

{4}

“I didn’t even know Logan knew so many people that actually liked him,” James murmured in Casper’s ear, Casper giggled before he could stop himself and slapped his hands to mouth. James smiled,” Cute, I thought only girls giggled.”

Casper glared at the taller boy, his face heating up in embarrassment. Hedgehog came up from behind him and slapped James across the head.

“Speak for yourself, I don’t giggle.”  Hedgehog told him. It was probably true, she’d been even manlier than Casper since they were little, he didn’t even think he’d ever seen her cry either while he had... quite a lot.

Inside, the music was almost deafening. People were crushed into the living room that was rechristened the dance floor for tonight only while others flooded out to the kitchen and hanging around the stairs.

 “I can already feel my ears bleed, “Casper complained loudly over the roaring music blasting from the huge speaker emitting from the corners of the room.

Casper wasn’t the best dancer in the world. James had even kindly pointed out that he looked like Bambi on ice on more than one occasion, which Casper didn’t appreciate, nor did he James’ existence. James, on the other hand, was a natural, much that Casper hated to admit but he couldn’t deny it. James melted into the crowed but somehow managed to keep his own, swaying and thrusting his limbs to the beat and made everyone look like limp noodles wiggling around him.

Casper didn’t really feel comfortable dancing when James was, especially when he liked to tease him relentlessly about his dance moves. Whenever he did he just knew James was always looking at him; judging him, laughing at him.

He made his way to the kitchen, pushing through mosh pits and some sort of dance-orgy. When he finally reached the kitchen alive after practically crawling away when the “sort of dance-orgy” had suddenly decided they wanted him to join and he became the nucleus of the grinding, biting and –to his utter and complete horror- licking. He felt as though his brain was water logged from how many times someone had stuck their tongue in his ear. Casper did a full body shudder before composing himself and making his way to where the green-headed freak usually hung about.

Sure enough, he found Darla in the corner of the kitchen but unusually with company. He decided to wait a safe distance until Darla and a small red headed girl stopped trying to suck the life out of each other.

It took a while.

When Darla finally came up for air, Casper had fought off a lot of horny drunk people and drank half a glass of weird tasting fruit vodka (Casper thought it was tropical). Darla noticed him as soon as she recovered from her game of tonsil tennis, got rid of the small red head quickly, and ran over to him as fast as she could in heels practically the same length of her arm. Casper liked to think they were called “killer heels” because the wearer could trip over them, break their neck and literally be killed.

“Looking good as always, Darla,” Casper laughed, opening his arms to the tall girl.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, snuggling into his shoulder.

Little more than a year ago, the gesture would have Casper jumping for joy. He’d met Darla two years ago in the summer and had become immediately infatuated with her; her bright hair (it had been cherry red then), bold personality and how gorgeous she was. Casper had thought it to be love and for nearly over a year he tried to pursue it. Had it not been for Darla bluntly rejecting him when he told her about his feeling would he have realised that he didn’t love her in that way (after spending days moping and feeling sorry for himself, of course) but more in the idea of loving her and to be honest, she was kind of high maintenance.

While Casper and Darla caught up with each other, Casper was being ushered more and more alcohol into his hand which he drank until the world was at a slight tilt.

 Suddenly he was dancing to some stupid song but everything he hated about it before seemed meaningless now and everything made sense, he needed to dance. Darla became lost in the crowd but he was having too much fun to care and swayed his arms in the air and started move his legs as if he was doing a square dance. He didn’t even care that James was there, laughing at him, as usual because he had nothing better to do with his time that make Casper feel like shit, but Casper didn’t care. He just smiled widely back at him to tell him that very thing, he felt the best he’d ever been and not even James could ruin it.

He didn’t even care when James started to move closer, with that signature smirk playing on his lips, to where he was dancing (or thrashing his arms about where he thought necessary plus the occasional leg). Even when James got right up in his personal space and abruptly ceased Casper’s wild flailing of his limbs by intertwining their fingers so James was in control of Casper’s arms and getting him to move along to the rock of James’ hips. Once he got the hang of his limbs and matched James’ rhythm to his own this became even more of a blur. All he knew that James came even closer and Casper let him.

He could feel each breath James took as he lowered closer and closer to the crook of his neck. He could smell his shampoo and his aftershave mix into one and it was glorious. It should be illegal for someone to smell this good. 

 He released their hands and moved his arms to around his waist, even closer. They were moving perfectly in sync with each other and the beat of the music and his breath became short and broken as they moved faster, keeping up with the music. Everything was hot and everything felt good. Casper was vaguely aware that he was doing was what he was frowning upon with others just hours before, especially with the guy he hated with a fiery passion of a thousand burning suns, but it just felt so right.

Well, it did until he felt his stomach lurch the liquids in his stomach and started to rise upwards.

And quickly. 

 He jumped from James frantically, who looked at him with confusion before Casper ran from the scene, up the stairs into the main bathroom before throwing up the contents of his stomach into white porcelain toilet bowl.