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Too Close

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A dubstep song is piercing Hinata’s ears, the beat thumping against the walls of the house and making him wince. He reluctantly follows his friends past the door-frame and into the chaos. As expected, the place is pretty crowded - people dancing, people drinking, people smoking. The smells of cigarettes and beer and that loud music makes Hinata feel slightly sick, his stomach doing little flips.

He tries to make himself as small as possible, which is really against his nature, but this place is undeniably intimidating, and for once, he just wants to blend in. His friends don’t even stop to see if he’s still following them, but Hinata keeps trailing after them until they stop at the home bar. A tall guy is behind it, taking orders and quickly dishing them out.

Hinata takes a seat on one of the barstools, shoving his fists into the pocket of his hoodie, and glances around cautiously. The place is pretty dim, but there are the strobe lights that occasionally flash around, making Hinata’s hand fly up to shield his eyes. There are people already making out and shamelessly grinding in what you’d call the living room.

While observing his surroundings, Hinata casually eavesdrops into a conversation - one between one of his friends and the makeshift bartender.

“He always brings the prettiest women, you know? And I haven’t gotten laid in fucking months.”

The bartender laughs in response, and Hinata sneaks a glance to find him turning away from his friend to take a brief order. He reaches over, grabbing a bottle of pepsi before sliding it across the counter towards the customer, and then turns back around.

“He doesn’t have any sense of timing, so he’ll be late,” he replies.

“And yeah, I hear that he’s bringing a new group of girls.”

Hinata doesn’t want to hear anymore.

He swivels his stool around to face the bartender, and waits until the guy’s served another customer before waving him over. He quietly asks for a bottle of water, his voice dropping to a whisper, barely heard over the pounding music. The bartender has to strain to hear him, but can make out the way Hinata’s lips move to form the word ‘water’, and soon he’s whipping back around to retrieve the product from the fridge.

Hinata waits a few moments, fingertips drumming on the counter’s surface. He watches as the bartender fishes throughout the fridge, pulling open drawers and pushing other contents out of the way. He does this a couple of times, and even though he’s got his back turned to everyone, Hinata can just barely see the exasperated expression on the guy’s face.

The bartender turns back to Hinata, shaking his head and mouth an ‘all out’. Hinata nods in response, but the guy’s already turned away. The persimmon-haired male sighs, swivelling away from the bar and turning to face the party.

He’d wanted a water to soothe his dry throat and sudden anxiety, but he decided quickly that he’d just have to deal.

The party’s gotten worse, if that’s the word for it.

It’s alive, and another song’s blasting - Hinata groans inwardly when he recognizes the beat as the one from Flo Rida’s Whistle. There’s a guy at the door, greeting more people as they fill in. He’s tall, maybe a little taller than the bartender, with short blonde hair and annoyed eyes behind dark glasses. He takes the partygoers’ hands, shaking them briefly with a frown before repeating the process.

Hinata watches, bored with the sight of the blonde already, and turns his attention to a nearby window. The sky’s dark outside, ghostly white clouds drifting across the dark indigo canvas. The night had been humid and almost uncomfortable, and the atmosphere was the signal for parties.

Hinata had never been one for parties. He’d rather stay at home by himself, although he did enjoy going out with his friends. So when a few of said friends had told him that they’d been invited to a party, and that they had been told to invite as many people as possible, he’d agreed - he didn’t really have anything to do, and a question entered his mind.

Why not?

But now, as ironic as it is, Hinata’s beginning to regret his decision.

And yeah, he’d been to parties before.

Not the wild, fist-pumping, heart-pounding and ‘i’m-gonna-get-drunk-out-of-my-mind-and-make-out-with-a-stranger’ parties. He’d been to bookstore signings and weddings, welcome-home’s and graduations. Those were all calm parties, the type where you wander around, smile at people and greet them casually. The type of parties where nothing sets you on edge, and like mentioned before, it’s calm.

This was the type of party that was setting Hinata on edge.

His legs were stiff, sort of trembling - that always happened when his anxiety kicked in - and he was glancing around nervously, trying to drink in everything at once. He was trying to take deep breaths, trying to slowly calm himself down. He jumps slightly when a sharp finger prods at his forearm, and he turns to face the friend who had been talking with the bartender before.

“There’ll be a lot of girls here,” he comments.

“You planning on getting fucked tonight?”

Hinata’s face heats up, but he forces a shrug of his shoulders. He wants to bravely point out that he doesn’t hold any attraction to girls, but that would only result in name-calling. Discrimination was somehow disgustingly common in this city, and Hinata had heard that many people had gotten hurt over who they were. If he said he was afraid of telling anyone, he would be telling the truth, so he keeps to himself.

But it sort of hurts to have to join in his the harsh antics of his friends, even if he knows they mean well.

His friend chuckles at his lack of an answer, shouldering him before lifting a finger, and pointing in the direction of the party.

From where Hinata’s looking, his friend’s finger is pointing directly to a girl, who’s rocking her hips back and forth. He doesn’t find the movement hot, he doesn’t want to do anything with her, and he definitely wants his friend to just drop it.

But of course, he doesn’t.

He lips pull into a smirk, and he flashes a wolfish smile at Hinata, raising an eyebrow.

“You wanna play a game?”

It takes a moment for Hinata to register that he’s still being talked to, but he snaps up, mind racing.

“Sure,” he lies.

He knows where this is going.

He doesn’t like it.

“The rules are, that you have to pick up a chick using a pick up line, you know - get her number. Unless you’re a fag, and you wanna pick up a guy, huh?”

Hinata swallows thickly, his heart clenching in his chest at that word.

He shakes his head, the regret already sinking in, because he wants to speak up for himself, but he just can’t. His friend nods his head as if Hinata not being into guys is a good thing, and goes back to speaking. Hinata doesn’t want to hear anymore, but he still listens.

“Alright, so whoever gets ten girls first wins. I’ll buy you whatever you want, like that book you were talking about last week. And if I win, you gotta buy me a lap dance.”

Hinata nods this time, sucking in a deep breath as his friend adds that he should go first.

So Hinata complies.

He hops off of his barstool, his shoes hitting the floor with a soft thud. There’s an intermission between songs, but some people are still grinding in the livingroom to an unknown rhythm. Hinata mentally scoffs at the sight, but forces his gaze away as he makes his towards the girl that had been pointed out.

She’s still moving her hips, and Hinata feels his face heat up because this is stupid and he should know better than to oblige to something like this - he should be able to trust his friends, but right now something doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s right behind her, before carefully tapping on her back.

She whips around to face him, having to look down slightly because she’s taller, and the height difference makes Hinata feel like one of those munchkins from the Wizard of Oz or whatever. But he bravely looks up, taking in a shaky breath, and is just about to speak before the girl beats him to it.

“I don’t do midgets,” she says calmly.

Her hips have stopped moving and she’s standing perfectly still. Her words make Hinata’s face heat up, and he begins mumbling out an apology, but then she gives a gentle smile. Her left hand is clutching a beer can, and she lifts it up to her lips to take a sip.

“I’m kidding, but I’m gay.”

“Me too,” Hinata smiles back, finally calming down.

“So who sent you over here?,” she asks after a moment.

“A friend,” Hinata sighs.

“He, um- I was supposed to get your number, but, yeah.”

She laughs, leaning against a nearby wall and taking another sip of her beer.

“Well, good luck tonight,” she adds.

He considers replying with a ‘you too’, but stops himself short, and instead nods in response. He takes her words as a sign to leave, and slowly begins making his way away from her and back towards the bar. But as soon as he’s in close range - he’d been looking at the floor part of the time, and barely looked up, only doing that to make sure he was going the right way - he realizes that his friend is gone.

He stands up straight, suddenly aware. He glances around quickly, trying to spot his friend anywhere, and feels panic wash over him when he notices that all of his other friends are gone, too. Hinata’s frozen to the ground, his heart pounding in his ears and making the blasting music at least ten times louder. He swallows harshly, forcing himself to keep moving.

He pushes past people, too many people, grinding and kissing and making out, the scent of alcohol and tobacco making his eyes water. He covers his nose, desperately attempting to make his way through the thick crowd. It’s like an ocean, threatening to take him down under and trap him there, and soon he’s gasping for air. He’s half-searching for his friends, and half-searching for a way out.

He inhales sharply when a topless girl juts her body out, almost knocking him over. Rough hands shove him out of the way and all around, and he’s stumbling, his breath hitching when he loses his balance. He trips, the fact that he’s going to fall finally registering in his mind, and his stomach clenches and there’s nothing that he can do.

His arms fly up as a reflex to attempt to catch himself, but he doesn’t meet the floor.

He crashes into a tall guy, fingers curled tightly into the fabric of the guy’s shirt, face slamming into the guy’s clothed chest. Hinata lets out a choked yelp when this happens, his legs almost giving out from under him as he quickly tries to recover. He’s sort of grateful - the guy’s wearing a coat, which blocks out the loud music, and his tall frame makes Hinata feel sort of safe.

But then the guy shoves him away harshly, like everyone else, and Hinata is stumbling back again.

He manages to get a glimpse of the guy before he actually falls backwards. He is tall, with dark hair that frames his face, and menacing, cold eyes. A cigarette’s balanced between his pale lips, and he sends a sharp glare Hinata’s way before turning around and walking away. Hinata’s left to jump up and away from the risk of getting trampled by feet. One he stands up and briefly brushes himself off, he attempts to peer past the crowd, watching as the guy he’d run into walks away.

Hinata then begins pushing past the crowd once again, forcing his way more desperately past the people, still flustered and slightly nervous. He’s following the guy now, feeling like he’s doing something absolutely terrible, but he doesn’t stop.

His heart leaps into his throat when the crowd begins blocking him from his path, the guy fading farther and farther away from his vision. Soon Hinata can no longer see him, and is left standing in the middle of the crowd, dark eyes wide and almost owlish.