the party scene -- OPEN

[drydan spencer]

"This world we live in. It's fucking massive, isn't it?"Andy commented. Sometimes Drydan was convinced he'd spent far too much time around Andy and as a result they had some weird telepathic link. It was at times like this he was also convinced that there was no need for him to bother keeping his feelings a secret; Andy was already in his head, he already knew it all anyway. Maybe he was just waiting for Dry to be brave enough to say it out loud, to make it real. Which was exactly what he was going to do.

Except, when he opened his mouth the words that came out didn't look remotely like that sentiment or even one of its distant, backwater cousins. "But you and Pippa are going to get married. And have a billion pretty little Pippettes and Andilings and move away to some crazy-ass farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and grow your own vegetables and have a pet cow and forget all about me." Drydan was gasping for breath by the time he was finished. He could hear the crazy flowing through his veins, where his blood was supposed to be. He laughed loudly, sitting up and nearly knocking heads with Andy. He took the joint from Andy and took a short drag, blowing a thin circle of smoke into the air and watching it float away to poison a star. Like that damn Pippa had poisoned his life.

Drydan realised his face was still incredibly close to Andy's. At this distance he could smell the perfection veneer that Andy lived beneath. He looked deep into Andy's eyes and realised, if he could pick a place to be lost forever, they would be it. He laughed again, even though he suddenly felt like crying. Nothing was making sense these days. "Hey, if you got married now, you'd both have to wear the white, virgin boy." Drydan murmured, confused as to why his voice didn't seem to be aware it had just told a joke. On the contrary, his tone had suggested something between depression and his underlying confusion.

[/size]

word count; threesixseven.

[andy mclaughlin]

Andy grinned at his friend for a few moments and then breathed the smoke out between his teeth. He listened to Drydan’s theory about him and Pippa getting married and having children and living in a farm and his felt his throat go dry. “I can’t even think about babies.” He groaned, putting his hands on his chest and leaning back on the bench. He looked at the sky and then breathed in and out deeply. “I’d love a fvcking cow.” He mumbled, licking his lips and then smiling slightly, “I could never forget you, man.” He said punching Drydan in the shoulder and then laughing slightly. Then Drydan sat up suddenly and Andy had to pull his hand out of his friend’s hair very quickly. He hoped his fingers didn’t catch in it – he didn’t want to hurt Drydan. He looked at his best friend in his deep brown eyes and smiled at him.

Their faces were so close that he could see every pore on his face and the hair that was flopping into his eyes. Andy didn’t know what to how to explain what he was feeling. There was a strange feeling in his stomach at that moment. He took the joint from his best friend’s hand and then laughed slightly as he took a long joint. He laughed when he said about them wearing white, “Only if the wedding is occurring within the next four days!” He exclaimed and then laughed slightly. He was so proud of himself that finally he was going to be a ‘man’ but at the same time he was terrified about the whole event. It was a sincerely important thing he was doing. This was a major event on his life. It could so easily go wrong.

He took another draw of the joint and felt his head dipping forward, he looked at his best friend as he leaned forward and then looked up at the sky which was rife with stars that made him feel a little bit sick. “I’m actually starving.” He mumbled, leaning back again a bit too suddenly and rubbed his hands over his unhappy stomach. He couldn’t begin to understand what was going on right now. He smiled at Drydan again and took one more draw before handing it back, “I love you, man.” He grinned at him and ruffled his hair.


wordcount;; three hundred and ninety six

[drydan spencer]

For a ludicrous moment - a simultaneously wonderful and terrifying moment - Drydan suddenly felt sure Andy was going to kiss him. Andy was leaning in ever so gently to smash his carefully constructed sandcastle of deception to pieces. Nothing could guarantee what he put in its place would be any safer, but Drydan was so willing to take that chance; that escape route from the fucking rut he was stuck in. Just to find out if Andy's smile tasted as good as it looked.

His eyes fluttered shut and he took a deep breath... but nothing happened. Drydan opened his eyes what could have been several twilights later, or perhaps a matter of seconds and watched Andy blowing smoke into the darkness of the night sky. As his head rushed and his heart sank, Drydan wondered how deep that sky was. Could it swallow him as easy? If he asked extra nicely would it try?

"I'm actually starving," Andy was saying, beautifully oblivious as always. "I love you, man." he smiled that insanity inducing grin and ruffled Drydan's hair. His touch was like a particularly intoxicating trip. Addictive as hell and unforgettable, but disconcertingly friendly. His words, too, stored to echo over and over in Drydan's dreams; a beacon in his nightmares, a light to guide him, but never to be reached. He could barely understand his poetically waxing internal monologue and didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of explaining it to Andy, so instead settled for, "I could kill some chips or something" which wasn't remotely true. Food was the last thing on his mind. He leaned back against Andy's shoulder, and sighed. This was fucking ridiculous.

[/size]

word count; enough? :3

[andy mclaughlin]

Andy was lying back against the bench rubbing his belly roughly during the silence that had fallen between him and Drydan. He felt so hungry, so, so, hungry that he felt like he was going to die. His head hurt slightly and he didn’t know what to do. He took another draw of his joint and passed it back to his friend who seemed very sleepy or something similar. It seemed to be one of his days where weed simply made him a quiet and sporadic rambler. He looked at the side of Drydan’s face and looked at all the little hairs of his stubbly beard. They looked giant right now, he could hardly believe how large.

“I could kill some chips or something.” Drydan told him. Andy grinned widely when he said then and threw his hands up in the air just as Drydan leant against his shoulder, “Yes!” He exclaimed excitedly, “Let’s get some!” He mumbled, but made no move to get up, “With beans and cheese and a kebab...” He suggested and then trailed off, frowning slightly, “Or maybe some pizza. With kebab sauce. And beans.” He stopped and put his hands on his aching belly again, “Actually, a packet of beef Hula Hoops and I’d be as happy as Larry.” Andy’s rambling came to an abrupt stop and he looked down at his shoes. His heels were dug into the floor and his toes were pointed towards the starry sky. He couldn’t believe how strange feet were.

Andy flicked his hair off his neck and then licked his extraordinarily dry lips and leant his head back against the bench and then moving it onto the top of Drydan’s head. “I could sleep.” He mumbled and smiled lazily. He rubbed his face against Drydan’s prickly hair and then straightened up again. He took the joint out of Drydan’s hand and took two draws which killed it. He threw the butt on the ground and sighed heavily.


wordcount;; three hundred and twenty nine

[drydan spencer]

Drydan was pretty sure he was going to vomit if Andy didn't stop talking about food. His head was spinning, his throat was dry and he was thrown horribly off balance as Andy threw his arms into the air quite unexpectedly, sending Drydan sprawling into Andy's lap. He could have laid there forever, but he righted himself quickly and settled against Andy's now relaxed arm. He was so sleepy, and Andy's dulcet tones weren't helping him stay awake. His voice was like the ocean, rising and falling . "Who's Larry? And how happy is the daft sonuvabitch anyway?" He mumbled, rubbing his face into Andy's side, revelling in the warmth of his best friend.

He could feel the joint slipping from his hand as he relaxed into the calm feeling Andy's proximity induced. Or it was probably the drugs. The two kind of came hand in hand, there wasn't really a need to differentiate. Suddenly, it was lifted from his hand and he sighed happily as Andy snuggled into his hair. This was what made it worth the lies and the strain and the random moments were he felt like his feelings were going to shove his brains out his ears and nose like so much excess strawberry jam in a bagel.

"Me too. Just go to sleep and float away in that big old open sky," Drydan tried to sound interesting and deeply philosophical, but the slur of his words made it all sound a bit silly; what little could be actually understood as English. It didn't matter though; Andy would know what he was saying. When they were kids they had invented their own secret language that no one else could be bothered to take the five minutes it would require to translate. It had been wonderful. Like their own Drydan and Andy bubble that nobody dared burst. Then a stream of meaningless girls and seven methods of integration had shoved their made-up language from Drydan's mind and substance abuse banished it from Andy's. "I miss our bubble," Drydan exclaimed, suddenly awake and sounding more upset than he had realised he was.

[/size]

word count; threesixseven

[andy mclaughlin]

Andy leant back against the backrest of the bench and mulled over Drydan’s question. He’d often wondered who exactly Larry was and what it was that made Larry so happy but he’d never got anywhere with it. He’d often thought of Googling it and learning the origin of the phrase but he always forgot whenever he was near a computer so it remained a mystery. “Larry is me! And I’m great!” Andy replied nonsensically and then smirked at the top of his best friend’s head who was just lying in his lap. He shifted his legs slightly and then smiled over at the street lamps who had flickered into life and were bestowing light upon everyone around. In other words, just them.

Andy wondered if it was a little bit creepy for two twenty-year-old men to be hanging around in a children’s playground after dark. It was completely innocent, of course, but at the same time, they were supposed to be adults and they weren’t doing the best job of it. Andy rubbed his hands on the sides of his legs and looked up at the sky when Drydan mentioned it. He would love to be able to fly into the sky and sleep at the same time. In the way he always imagined Peter Pan doing it. “That would be immense.” Andy agreed and rubbed his chin roughly before laughing slightly. He scratched the top of Drydan’s head and then turned his attention to the swings that were swinging gently in the wind.

Initially when Drydan mentioned the bubble, Andy frowned in confusion and tried desperately to remember what they were talking about. Eventually, he deduced that it was about their secret language. It had been created completely organically, they hadn’t even realised that other people didn’t understand it until someone asked what they were talking about. “I miss it, too.” He mumbled quietly and then looked wistfully up at the cloudy sky, “I miss a lot of things.” He mumbled and licked his lips twice before looking over at his friend who had begun to lean against his shoulder.


wordcount;; three hundred and fifty one

[drydan spencer]

Drydan couldn't believe Andy remembered. How was it that a boy who spent half his time in a drug-addled stupor would remember something as long ago and as insignificant as that? Not that Drydan thought it insignificant, but he was usually wrong about such things. It was just another reason to love Andy. Not that Drydan needed one. If anything he needed to find things about Andy to dislike, reasons to stop this silly game his mind was playing. He frowned and glared at the sky accusingly. "Maybe you wouldn't miss them so much if you paid attention. I mean, I'm still here, dude," He tried to calm down, but there was a strange sort of fire rising in the depth of his stomach. "But you're so busy with Pippa, it's a wonder I even see you these days," he muttered sadly. He hoped it don't sound quite as pathetic as he felt. He hated how honest he was being. Honest was dangerous, exposed territory.

Sitting up straight, Drydan attempted to twist round and face Andy so he would be sitting cross-legged on the bench - attempted being the operative word. What happened instead was that about halfway through the world seemed to pitch sideways slightly and he found himself sliding instead towards the ground.

It was bizarre, like his life was being filtered through a slow motion lense or perhaps all the air had turned to invisible jelly as his fall seemed to take an age. He threw out his arms in a bid to catch hold of something, anything and caught hold of Andy's hoodie, dragging him down, too. Strange, a little sarcastic voice at the back of his head piped up, It's usually the other way round. Drydan, the cool damp of the grass seeping into his T-shirt, promptly told it to 'shut the fuck up'

[/b] only to realised moments later he had realised this sentiment for the world's consensus. He laughed awkwardly, as his thoughts were quietly distracted from his mild bout of crazy to the more pressing issue of Andy's very close proximity and just how much he was enjoying it.[/blockquote][/size]

word count; threeseventhree

[andy mclaughlin]

Andy was slightly startled at Drydan’s sudden increase in angry emotions. The other boy was usually a little more... meek, I suppose. Andy hadn’t really expected the venomous reply that he had been given. But Drydan didn’t seem like he was actually angry. He seemed like he was sad, maybe a little hurt and Andy wasn’t exactly sure why. He made another swipe at Pippa, being angry at the amount of time that Andy spent with her – was he not supposed to see his girlfriend all the time? Andy had never really had a proper girlfriend before, he wasn’t sure how much or how little time you were supposed to spend with your significant other but Pippa hadn’t asked him for space so she must be enjoying it.

Besides, it wasn’t even like Andy spent all that much time with Pippa. He saw her alone two or three times a week, four at most. He saw both of them at various Warehouse activities and saw Drydan by himself...well, rather irregularly. “I’m not missing things that are happening right now.” Andy said, feeling slightly confused by what was going on all of a sudden. He looked down at Drydan and smiled, “I know you’re here.” He declared, then leant back and added thoughtfully, “I expect you to be here.” He looked about him and then back over at his best friend, “I’m never too busy for you!” He declared in a silky voice and then laughed a short laugh and rubbed his eyes with his fingers.

Within a few seconds, Andy found himself being pulled to the ground by his hoody and he was suddenly kneeling on top of Drydan – his hands on either side of his head. Andy felt kind of strange in his stomach. “Shut the fuck up.” Drydan muttered and Andy moved back slightly, shocked by the unexpected outburst from Drydan. “What?” He asked, squinting slightly but his friend began to laugh and Andy knew that he would probably never know what that was about. It occurred to Andy that he had been on top of Drydan for a bit longer than he assumed was socially acceptable and he quickly dismounted so he was sitting on his shins looking at Drydan. “I don’t remember it raining.” Andy commented on the state of the grass rather cryptically, and ripped a handful of grass out of the ground before letting it slip through his fingers.


wordcount;; four hundred and five

[drydan spencer]

The look of confusion on Andy's face said it all, really. Drydan tried taking a deep breath, he really needed to calm down - he was confusing himself, too. Sadly, it did anything but relieve his cloudy mind as the scent of Andy's cologne flooded his senses, switching his thoughts to hurricane mode. Andy rolled away into the grass and it was only a case of blessedly inhibited reflexes that he didn't reach out and pull his friend down again. It would have been all too easy to just grab onto him and never let him go. Instead, Drydan propped himself up on his elbows and surveyed Andy ripping out stalks of grass. The childlike manner of his actions was so endearing he smiled in spite of himself. “I don’t remember it raining.” Andy pondered aloud and Drydan had to really kick his brain into gear to guess that maybe Andy was talking about the grass.

He sighed and flopped back down into the damp lawn, "It didn't rain. The grass is crying." Drydan whispered, turning his face sideways, enjoying the cool of the grass against his cheeks. Why was he too warm? Maybe all the crazy energy from his brain was trying to escape. Probably for the best. Usually Leah was there to relieve his built up energy, but she didn't seem to be responding any time soon. She was probably off with her university friends being cultured and drinking coffee in dusty bookshops or whatever students did.

Drydan sometimes wondered why he didn't go. From what Leah said, it would have been perfect for him. Everything about the experience from the seminars to the party scene, he could see himself fitting flawlessly into that world. But something stopped him. Something in the form of Andy's general disdain for all things higher education. Not that it was in any way Andy's fault he hadn't gone. Drydan made his own choices. It just so happened that when it came to Andy, his vision became a little...tunnel-like and he would ignore other things as a result. The things he could have done at Uni...

Drydan shifted onto his side, entirely unwilling to make any move to get up. "Let's just lie here forever," he suggested, counting the tiny freckles on Andy's arm and marvelling at the clear movements of his muscles working in carefully regimented waves. A work of art, down to the last details. "We should, and be catchers in the park. I mean if the kids are running and they don't look where they're going we have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all we'd do all day. We'd just be the catchers in the park and all," Drydan said in his best New York accent. He was certainly in the Holden mood, anyway.

[/size]

word count; foureightone.

[andy mclaughlin]

Andy rubbed his hands over the damp grass again and looked up at his best friend with an expression of pure glee. Why did grass feel so strange? Almost waxy but not exactly. Strange. Drydan’s reaction to the wet grass was dark, but for some reason that Andy couldn’t put his finger on, Andy laughed out loud and then smiled, “Did the trees make fun of it?” He demanded and then laughed again. The whole idea of nature having emotions was ludicrous and yet somehow very likely that they had them. He couldn’t have known.

Andy lay on his back and sprinkled the grass that he ripped out of the ground onto his stomach and smiled up at Drydan whose face was looking very dark and broody at that present time. He wondered what Drydan was thinking about. Probably something intelligent. Drydan was a very clever guy, Andy couldn’t imagine him thinking about cartoons. Perhaps Drydan was thinking about Leah. For some reason this irritated Andy extensively and his mouth became a line. He rubbed the grass all over his belly and looked up at the stars for a few seconds. He was beginning to feel a little bit sick, but that was part of his routine when he was smoking weed. He’d feel like his head was heavy, then a little sick, then perfectly mellow. That was what he expected and loved.

“Let’s just lie here forever.” Drydan suggested and Andy nodded enthusiastically at the idea of it. He loved sitting about and lying still. “I like this plan.” He told him and then grinned. He laughed as Drydan affirmed his previous statement with a plan to become a catcher, “That would be good.” He mumbled and then sat up, “I don’t really knows what that means, though.” He laughed slightly and rubbed his tummy again the grass fell onto his lap and he brushed it off. “We should build a den.” He decided aloud knowing that he neither had the strength nor concentration to construct something that would be effective.


wordcount;; three hundred and forty two

[drydan spencer]

Drydan smiled morosely. Andy was beyond the point where he could understand the sadness Drydan felt sure was rolling off him in waves. Drydan was probably beyond it himself. But he didn't have to understand it to feel it. All this talk of dens and lying in the grass and what did it amount to? The dampness in his shirt was beginning to become uncomfortable and a fresh sorrow feel across him for the den that would never be built. That was the problem with him and Andy. There was no moving forward. It was like...like Andy was still in that bubble they'd once shared, but now Drydan was standing on the real world, dealing with so much shit he couldn't handle.

"We should go back to mine," Drydan suggested, willing himself to sit up. "Mary and Stephen are away until the weekend and it's awful dark and lonely back there," if there was one thing he hated it was being alone. Andy knew that. Ever since he was a little kid, Drydan had spent the majority of his nights sleeping with a light of some description, unless he had someone there keeping the darkness and all that came with it at bay. Most weekends it was Andy who had been there, for sleepovers when they were kids and then as they grew up simply because Drydan's house was closer to the centre of town and Andy was frequently too wrecked to haul his ass home.

"Come on," Drydan dragged himself to his feet and for the second time that night he extended a hand to Andy who was now covered in grass and grinning like a little kid. Beyond endearing, that was the only way to describe it. "We can have toast and everything."

word count; threeonethree[/size]

[andy mclaughlin]

Andy looked over at his friend and wondered what was going on in his head. He couldn’t be sure what Drydan was thinking a lot of the time these days. He loved Drydan but sometimes he felt like he didn’t know anything about him. Andy smiled at him broadly and rubbed his hands on his thighs and tried to ignore the itch that was forming on his chin. He tried to study Drydan discretely so that he wouldn’t ask him what he was doing. Andy would hate to be asked what he was doing. Even though it was totally innocent.

Drydan sat up a couple of moments later and suggested that they should go to his house because his parents were away. A large smile appeared on Andy’s face and he leant towards his friend, “Definitely!” Andy enthused and looked about him and then leant towards him again, “I’ll stay ‘til they get back if you want?” He suggested, arching his eyebrow and smirking at the idea that they could spend the entire week together smoking weed until they could hardly open their eyes again.

Andy allowed himself to be dragged to his feet, clasping onto his best friend’s hand and leaning backwards so that Drydan felt the strain of his entire weight just out of badness. Andy smiled broadly at him and rubbed his fingers roughly between his eyebrows. He let go of Drydan’s hand which he realised he was still holding just as Drydan suggested that they could have toast once they went back to his house. “Do you have like microwaves popcorn?” He demanded, arching an eyebrow, “I’d rather that.” He explained. Andy had a terrible habit of leaving words out of his sentences when he was high. It was purely his laziness that inspired it.


wordcount;; two hundred and ninety nine!