I have the next eleven days off from work. I have a to-do list as long as my arm, and included in that list is the ambitious goal of writing 1,000 words a day towards Closer. We will see how that actually goes.
In the meantime, I recently finished working one of my favorite scenes between Jonothon and Calvin the other day. I suppose it is a bit egotistical to think that I am funny with fireman reference, but fourteen years after I originally wrote it, it still makes me smile.
Jonothon was tearing up the dance floor. The drinks made him a little too carefree, but the two guys flanking him did not seem to mind. Jonothon grabbed one by the back of the neck and pulled him in close. The guy’s hands wanderered down the small of Jonothon’s back into his jeans. Jonothon could only smile at the guy and pressed his body up against his a little tigher. They were moving to the rhythm of the music together when Calvin suddenly appeared and pushed in between them. “What the fuck are you doing?” Jonothon demanded.
“I was just about to ask you the exact same thing, Jonothon. This guy has to be at least five years older than you,” Calvin remarked. “And not the greatest catch either,” he commented when he caught the guy giving him a dirty look.
“Why don’t you mind your own business and just…” Jonothon trailed off as the room began to spin around him. Calvin grabbed him by the arm and started to guide him off the dance floor towards the washrooms.
“Maybe we’ll just let you cool off for a little while,” he suggested. The two boys entered the washroom, and Calvin sat Jonothon down on the toilet in the single stall. “Sit here for a minute,” he instructed. “I have to take a leak.”
Calvin walked up to the row of urinals and unzipped his pants. A moment later, he felt a breath on the back of his neck and turned his head to the side to see what perverted creep was about to him on him. Instead, he saw Jonothon standing behind him. “Y’know, you’re kinda hot,” Jonothon complimented through slurred words. Calvin finished his business at the urinal and zipped up his pants.
“Okay, you’ve had just a bit too much to drink,” Calvin decided. He grabbed Jonothon by the shoulders and was about to guide him towards the door, when Jonothon slumped into his arms. “Fuck,” Calvin whispered, knowing they would both get thrown out if any of the staff say Jonothon in this condition. “Definitely too much to drink,” he mumbled, trying to steady his friend.
Jonothon looked up with hazy eyes towards Calvin and smiled. Calvin pulled Jonothon back up onto his feet and held him there. “Listen,” Calvin said. “You need to act normal, or you’re going to get us into major shit.” Jonothon continued to smiled stupidly. Calvin paid no mind to him, until Jonothon reached out and grabbed both sides of his face. Calvin’s eyes went wide as Jonothon leaned in and kissed him.
Calin was surprised even more when he found himself willingly kissing back in equal force, as he gently pushed Jonothon against the wall of the washroom. Jonothon’s tongue began to probe between Calvin’s lips, making its way into his mouth, when Calvin finally came to his senses. “What the fuck are oyu on?” He protested, breaking away and shaking Jonothon like a ragdoll. He grabbed Jonothon by the arm and started to drag him out of the washroom. “That’s it, I’ve had enough for one night, we’re going home,” he announced.
Jonothon began to regain a bit more of his own faculties. “And what if I don’t want to actually go, Calvin?” He challenged. “Are you going to throw me over your shoulder fireman style and carry me down the stairs?”
Calvin shot back, “I think at this point, you’d enjoy that just a little too much.” Patrons were beginning to look their way, and Calvin was definitely aware of the scene that they were beginning to cause. “Fine. Do as you will, but you’re taking a cab home by yourself,” Calvin stated. WIth nothing more to say to his friend, Calvin turned and made his way towards the stairs and out of the club.
A random patron moved alongside Jonothon. “Man, your boyfriend is a bitch,” he commented.
Jonothon shrugged his shoulders in response. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he replied, in a tone that someone would have easily mistaken as bitter.