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Nic stopped dancing in an instant.
Maybe it was his alcohol-induced mind that convinced him that ducking through the mob was a good idea. He disappeared within the masses of people, distractedly apologizing to the girl he'd been dancing with. He kept his head up, looking around for that fucking Guy—he could've sworn he just saw Kieran out there. But where'd he suddenly go? It was just for a split second, so... he nearly convinced himself that he was just seeing things. He had been drawing Kieran constantly lately; he couldn't really blame his brain for inserting Kieran into this party. He'd been half-hoping to see Kieran around here, but the guy just didn't seem like the type to show up at a frat party.
Nic peered over a few heads until a guy next to him looked around, eyes bleary as he asked, "You lookin' for somethin'?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm just lookin' for a guy—short black hair, looks like he's wearing a flannel. His name's—"
"Oh, you're probably lookin' for Kieran," the guy said, and Nic sputtered out, shaking his head, "Wait—I'm confused. How do you know Kieran?"
"Dude, everyone knows Kieran," the stranger laughed, giving Nic a pat on the shoulder and saying, "Last I saw him, he was out on the top deck smoking."
"Wait—"
"But, like, you know. Not real smoke. The guy's not hardcore enough for that," he explained. Nic just stared at him until he was bumped in the side by another guy. He apologized and stammered out a thanks to the stranger before running off, hearing a faint, "Good luck, my dude!" from behind.
Nic tried to remember where he saw the stairs—by the foyer. He hurried out into the orange light and scrambled to the steps. They creaked under his feet, but he was moving too fast to care. He staggered out onto the half-landing, stepping around people who were sitting around there.
"Oops—sorry, excuse me—" he apologized, nearly crushing a girl's hand on the way up.
"No worries. You lookin' for the bathroom? Around the corner, to the left," she said, pointing up the stairs.
"Uh, no. I'm actually looking for a guy. Black hair, kinda Asian, I think he's wearing a flannel. The name's Kieran?" Nic asked, and one of the girls perked up from farther down the steps. She had her forearms resting on her knees, and she tilted her head back to look at him upside-down.
"Oh! Yeah, I saw him a little while ago! Bit of a mysterious fucker, isn't he?"
"You saw him? Where?" Nic said, hurrying back down to sit beside her. She rolled her head back into place and nodded it towards him.
"I let him try my vape stick. I see him once in awhile at parties—cool guy. Real philosophical shit," she said, and nodded up the stairs. "Said he needed to piss and ran off."
"Bathroom's upstairs, 'round the corner, to the left," the other girl repeated as Nic scrambled to his feet and thanked them all. He got a few solid high-fives on the way, and a "Good luck!" as well.
It was darker in these hallways, and he hardly noticed the chipped paint that seemed to coat everything—the trimming, the door frames, the doors themselves. Even the locks were painted over. There were guys standing around, and there was a line outside the bathroom. Nic skidded to a halt outside the door, and nearly got cussed out by someone who was at the front of the line before he blatantly asked, "Is there a guy in there?"
"Uh, yeah, why?" the stranger asked, squinting his eyes at Nic. Nic retracted a little, and gave a shrug.
"I dunno. Just lookin' for a friend," he said distractedly, and wandered across the hall to lean against the wall. It wasn't until he heard the bathroom door unlock that he realized he had absolutely no plan whatsoever. He didn't really plan chasing down Kieran at all. He started to panic—what the hell was he doing anyway? He didn't have any reason to—
The door opened, and it was just another stranger. The guy saw Nic standing there, staring at him with wide eyes. "Um, ya need something?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest.
"Uh... was there a guy in there before you? Average height, black hair?" Nic decided to ask, even though now his heart was pounding. That was such a close one.
"Yeah, he went that way," the guy said, pointing down the hall towards all the other frat guys' rooms. Nic stared down there and started moving before his brain could stop him. He called out his thanks before disappearing around the corner and hunting through the rooms with open doors before finding himself at an opposite staircase. The stairs circled around and deposited him onto another landing—this one opening up to more rooms and what looked like... a kitchen.
He searched through there fast enough before heading to the basement where a few people were mingling on the stairs. There were lights flashing down there, and it wasn't until he was staring at the back of a makeshift bar scene—otherwise known as a fold-out table full of booze being manned by two guys mixing drinks—that he saw something move fast out of the corner of his eye. It sounded like... ping pong.
There was a ping pong table off to the side, and several people were gathered around it, chanting on the players names. Nic wandered over, hands in his pockets as he observed the match, and the triangle of solo cups arranged at either end. Beer pong. He'd seen enough movies, and heard the legendary stories about Leo, to know as much.
He was just in the midst of watching one guy get destroyed when someone yelled out, "C'mon! Y'all aren't nearly as good as Kieran was. Someone get him back here—I want to challenge him!"
Nic perked up and asked without hesitation, "Kieran was here? When? I've been trying to find him."
The guys were setting up the cups again, and the girl who yelled that just smirked at Nic. "Why? You wanna challenge him to? That'd be a fun match, huh?" A few of her friends hollered in agreement, and Nic narrowed his eyes at her. "Tell ya what—I'll tell you where he is if you beat me in a game. What'dya fuckin' say, huh?"
Contrary to popular belief, Nic had never played beer pong. But if it meant finding Kieran...
"Sure. Game on," he said with a smirk, moving over to one side of the table as the girl took the other.
She laid down the rules. "No blowin' the ball out of the cup. If ya catch it, the point's your's. Goal is to get three in the cups, got it?" He nodded, studying the solo cups hips and how she bounced on her feet, preparing to probably crush Nic. He wondered why all the cups were blurring together and though—
—How much did I drink before coming here?
It was probably a good thing past experience in baseball made him reflexively catch the first ball she threw into the cups. The crowd around them went insane. It was the first toss, and somehow Nic managed to catch it. The girl just looked pissed, and she glared him down from over the shallow net, gesturing for him to come at her. Fight.
He made a gentle toss—semi-overhand, just mimicking what she'd done. It was a bit short, but his next one was closer, bouncing off the rim. They went back and forth like that, trying to swat the balls away from the cups, and once Nic's ball bounced in and bounced right out of the cup. Apparently that was a rule that meant he didn't get the point.
He caught another one, and threw it right back to get his third point.
"Holy shiiit!" the guys were screaming, clamoring around and grabbing hold of Nic. They shook him and clapped him on the back, waving him back and forth in victory. All Nic was worried about was talking to the girl about Kieran.
She came over to congratulate him. "Wow. You played this before?" she asked.
"Nah, first time," he confessed. "So Kieran? Where is he?"
"I'm right here, you idiot."
Nic spun around, hip bumping into the edge of the ping pong table. He was already sweating from the beer pong match, but this? This was infinitely worse. He would have yelped had common sense told him that would be even more embarrassing than this entire situation.
Kieran was leaning against the archway, where Nic came through after descending the stairs. Nic's eyes dipped down to the red and black flannel Kieran wore, and the thin black shirt underneath. The definition of Kieran's throat was enough for the shadows to show the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, still studying Nic. His frown puckered the skin between his brows as he walked up, arms crossed as he said, "Someone said you were looking for me," he commented, "and that you played one helluva game of beer pong to find me."
"Uh... yeah, sort of," Nic said, but the bass just happened to drop at that moment and everyone was screaming around the ping pong table.
Kieran scowled at him and leaned in: "What did you say?" he shouted over the ruckus.
Nic tried to reiterate it, but the sound was just impossible. Kieran rolled his eyes and nodded to the nook next to the stairs, and Nic followed. They walked through an open door, and it wasn't until Kieran turned on the light that Nic realized that... oh, right, people live in frat houses. The room was occupied, though, by a few people sitting on the futon and beanbag, and not to mention the bed pushed into the corner. For whatever reason, Kieran just... didn't seem like the type of guy to live in a frat house, or be in a frat for that matter.
"You... live here?" Nic asked as the door shut. The volume seemed to suck in and condense, and even with the bass pumping through the walls, he could hear all their voices crystal clear. Their own little bubble.
The people on the futon were clearly out of it, so he didn't really worry about the company.
"Nah. Friend's room," Kieran said, pushing himself up onto a stool and propping a leg up on one of the tongs. I'd pay good money to draw that, Nic thought to himself, and mentally punched himself for it. What the hell is wrong with me? "But you were looking for me?"
Nic cleared his throat awkwardly, and tried his best to relax by leaning against the opposite wall. "Yeah, uh... I recognized you. From that day we picked up the flyers and stuff," he said.
"Yeah, never introduced myself. Kieran," he said, and stretched out a hand.
"Nic." They clasped hands, and Nic felt like he just transcended into God-knows-where. In what world was he capable of being within the presence of such a god?
"Cool. I saw Sav a bit ago. She was lookin' for you too," he said, and Nic's heart dropped. He cursed under his breath, looking to the door. How could he have forgotten? This was Sav's first frat party, and he went and ditched her just like that—"But what'd you wanna talk about?" Kieran asked. "I mean, you musta been looking for me for some reason."
"I...um..." What the fuck. He was drunk, why'd he have to act all flustered and skittish? In what world was Nic ever going to actually get a chance to talk to Kieran again? Kieran was sitting right there, straight black hair tied back into a half-bun and all. He had little baby hairs framing his forehead, and curling around his ears.
Fuck it.
"I just... I saw you earlier this week and at first I shoulda asked you out or something, but it just didn't happen. And now I just really want to paint a portrait of you, so I'm wondering if we could get together some time next week?" he asked, and for God's sake, it was a miracle Nic was able to maintain eye contact the entire time, because if he hadn't, he would have missed how pink Kieran's cheeks went.
"Um... I don't—" Kieran started, mouth twisting closed the harder he thought. It was like he was trying to dissect everything Nic just said, and it was making his heart beat like crazy. Nic probably came off as insane. He totally did. He should've known—
"Dude, I'd pay good money to get a picture painted of me," someone from the couch said, tipping a bottle towards them. "That's a fuckin' skill not everyone has. You good?"
At first Nic didn't know what the guy was asking, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, I think? I mean, in high school I used to get a few Gold Keys a year at Scholastic," he confessed, scratching the back of his head. "But I mean, I mostly draw. Painting's more fun, though."
"You got any pictures?" the stranger asked, and the girl next to him agreed, sitting up straighter as Nic wandered over, sifting through his phone to find a good one. One that'd convince Kieran that he would be the best fucking painter to ever paint his fucking face.
After he showed them the photograph, one of the girls on the futon said, "You talented bastard. Kieran, let 'im paint you! C'mon, it'll be fun." She continued to pout at him, tipping her head onto the back of the futon and batting her pretty eyelashes at them. Kieran scowled at her, and kept his eyes on her as he reached a hand out to Nic, snapping his fingers for the phone.
He pointedly glared at Nic before he looked down and studied the photograph on the screen. He scrutinized it until the crease between his brows smoothed over, and his long eyelashes curved up, his eyes meeting Nic's. He looked at the painting once more before handing the phone back. "Fine. I'm mostly free Tuesday and Thursday mornings. You mind meeting at eight?"
Conscious Nic was too thrilled to respond, but somehow his mouth knew just what to say. He felt completely detached from the world. "Yeah! That's perfect. I have access to the studios in Ryce Hall, so we could meet there... Thursday morning? There aren't any painting classes on Thursday, so we'd have the studio to ourselves."
"Cool," Kieran said, and the smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips. They stared at each other, grinning like idiots, until they were startled by the people on the couch clapping and cheering for them. Kieran flipped them off, and Nic laughed, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "You should probably find Sav. She was worried you passed out in a ditch or something," he warned Nic.
Shit.
"Right! God, thanks for telling me. I'll... see you on Thursday?" he reiterated, already moving towards the door. Kieran nodded, eyes wide and a hint of amusement there on his lips again. Nic turned around, and nearly rammed straight into a guy entering the room. He apologized and scooted out of the way, and hurried up the steps that were straight ahead.
Now, to find Sav.