For arie: "No touching. Not even hugging."

It was dark and the follow-spots roved their way over the crowd and picked out the clouds and haze of smoke, both cigarette and otherwise. The dance floor was only one step down from "packed", and the music was deep and resonant and the sort of thing that snuck under your skin and pounded in your blood well past daylight. It was a good night, the kind of night when you felt like you could ring in the dawn and keep on going for another whole day, like the dancing and the music would be better than sleep to recharge you.

Lance threaded his way back through the crowd with his hands full of drinks. None of them trusted anything that had been out of their sight since the bartender had poured it. He bumped his hip against the table and just managed to salvage the drinks before he spilled them, pushing Chris and Joey's across the table.

"Dude. In the way," Chris said, and craned his head.

"Huh?" Lance slid down into the booth.

"Sweet Jesus suffering." Joey's voice was reverent. "Just look at that."

Lance followed their eyes. Justin and JC were both on the dance floor, separated by a respectable ten feet or so. Justin's girl was tall and redheaded; JC's was small and brunette. Neither man was looking at the girl. Their eyes were locked; their faces were neutral. JC rubbed the palms of his hands over his girl's nipples, never taking his eyes from Justin's face. Justin let his head fall back and his hips grind against his girl's backside. There were ten or twelve people between them, all the beautiful people in all their beautiful clothes, and they could have been alone for all they noticed. JC tossed his head and blew his hair out of his eyes. Justin bit his lip and ran his fingers down his partner's arms, inch by inch.

Chris picked up his beer bottle after a long moment. "Gentlemen. Here's to unresolved sexual tension."

They clinked glasses. "I'm not sitting in between them in the car on the way home," Lance muttered.

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