i could use another round, so i could really get on down (Pintofest Luau fic)
Title: i could use another round, so i could really get on down
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: pre-Pinto
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,225
Description: Why do gay guys dance with straight girls at gay clubs? It’s one of life’s mysteries. (Gay Club AU?)
Warnings: OFC, Zach-on-girl dancing
A/N: For ewinfic’s pintofest luau prompt - Girls
A/N2: Title and cut text from the song I Got Soul, I'm So Wasted by Wallpaper.
Zach took a long sip of his gin and tonic and stared out over the club floor. He’d spent the last four drinks making eyes at the skinniest boys in the tightest jeans and the heaviest eyeliner, with no luck whatsoever. Now, halfway through the fifth, he was almost drunk enough to give up on sex, and just about ready to dance.
He surveyed the dance floor, looking for an approach, his eyes roaming over groups of boys and the occasional girl. It was a gay club, after all, and some guys just couldn’t go out without that added sense of security that a straight girl brings. Zach rolled his eyes a little at the thought. He didn’t need anyone to tell him he looked good - he could look in the mirror and see that for himself. And he’d always thought it was kind of jerky, the way those guys would ditch their hags the moment they spotted a potential hook-up. Plus, it wasn’t like he needed some girl to get him out on the dance floor.
Zach glanced at the bar, where he’d been leaning in a carefully calculated manner for the past hour. Okay, fine, maybe he did need a girl to get him out on the dance floor. He took a few cautious steps out onto the floor, clutching his drink to his chest. Tried to let the rhythm flow through him, bobbed his head a little, but that was about as much as he could make himself move without added motivation. God, why wasn’t anyone bumping into him or something, he just needed some kind of excuse - there. She was practically dancing by herself, the guy she’d come with turned almost all the way around to grind against some muscular dude who was yelling in his ear. Zach found himself drawn to her - to the way the light shone on her hair, the way her white shirt, unbuttoned to just this side of slutty, practically glowed in the darkness of the club. To her smile, which widened a little as she caught a glimpse of her friend sliding his arm around to grope the other guy’s ass. She watched for a few seconds as she danced, then tore her eyes away to check out the rest of the crowd. Zach couldn’t blame her - there were a lot of hot guys in here tonight, nice to look at even if there was no chance of anything more - and he should know, he thought with a grimace. Finally, she turned her gaze on Zach and caught him looking. She paused, blushed, and glanced away, still dancing. Zach admired the way she moved, loose, not jerky, feet and hips and arms coordinated, sexy without trying too hard. He took another step forward, close enough to touch, and she looked at him again. It was too loud to talk, but he wanted to keep her there, to keep her eyes on him - her eyes flicked down to his gin and tonic. He smiled shyly and held it out to her.
She bit her lip and grinned at him as she took it. He could see what she was thinking - this was a bad idea, taking a drink from a stranger in a club, but she felt reckless under Zach’s flattering stare. Zach took another step closer, set his hands on her hips as she took a sip, leaned down to say something in her ear.
“You look amazing.”
He could practically feel the heat rise to her cheeks. She took another sip and offered the drink back to him. He took it from her hand, set it on the floor, then stood and pressed closer to her until their bodies were aligned. She slid a hand around his neck as the song changed, a new beat pulsing through the speakers and pounding in Zach’s chest. His hands were loose on her waist, sliding up her sides and back and down over the curve of her ass as he let the movement of her hips guide him. “You’re so fucking hot,” he told her again, and he heard her surprised laugh in his ear. He took a step back, holding her hand, giving her a spin. Girls loved that, and she was no exception, laughing again, not a coquettish, flirty laugh, but genuine enjoyment, genuine appreciation. Zach knew she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him, and he was loving it just as much as she was, the rest of the club blurring around them. He pulled her close again, a full on grind for a minute, and he thanked god he was drunk. Wouldn’t want to be getting hard and giving her the wrong impression, after all. His dick was a sucker for pulsing beats and a warm body grinding up against it, but despite several optimistic attempts on Zach’s part, it consistently refused to appreciate the beauty of the female form upon closer examination.
Apparently, his dance partner hadn’t forgotten where she was, either, because she turned them a little and gestured toward the side of the dance floor at her friend.
“Hey,” she said in his ear, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “That’s my friend over there!”
He looked over again to where she was pointing and gave the guy a more thorough examination. He was dancing alone now, sipping a drink, squinting across the club and trying not to look too desperate. Brown hair, shorter than Zach usually liked - he couldn’t tell from this distance if it was styled - a tan jacket over a white dress shirt, loose jeans. The shoes were okay, and Zach thought he was probably cute enough, though he couldn’t get a good look at his eyes - but the guy really wasn’t his type. Zach shrugged. “He’s okay,” he shouted.
“Just okay?”
“Yeah.” Zach spun her again and steered her toward a group of guys that were his type, a mass of spiky hair and faux hawks, abstract t-shirts tight enough to show off their nipple rings. A few of them he’d seen around, and he was pretty sure he’d slept with one of them. They nodded at him and shifted to make room in their little circle.
“What’s your name?” one of them yelled to his new friend.
“Becky,” she yelled back.
“You’re pretty,” he said, and the others nodded in agreement.
Zach wrapped an arm around her chest and leaned down to kiss her on the temple. “Isn’t she? Gorgeous,” he added with a smile, taking her hands and tangling their fingers together, raising them in the air as a Lady Gaga remix thumped through the speakers. Zach was feeling a little woozy, and he let himself lean a little, his chest against Becky’s back as they danced. She was getting antsy though, he could tell, glancing around trying to keep an eye on her friend, wherever he’d gone. Finally, she turned around.
“I gotta go,” she shouted. “Sorry.”
Zach shrugged, still dancing.
“It’s been fun,” she said with a glowing smile, and she slipped away across the dance floor.
**
“Real nice, Bex,” Chris grumbled when she found him moping in the stairwell a few minutes later. “Way to be a wingman.”
“What are you talking about? What happened to that guy you were playing grab-ass with?”
“He ditched me like five seconds after you left,” Chris said morosely.
“Man. That sucks. Why didn’t you come over?!”
“Um, I didn’t want to interrupt? I can’t fucking believe you get more action at a gay club than I do.”
“Yeah, well, I prefer my ‘action’ with a little more tongue in the mouth.”
“What, you didn’t make out with him?”
“Are you kidding me? No. Did you see that guy? He was pretty much as gay as they come.”
“Oh.” Chris furrowed his brow. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Why was he dancing with you?”
“Fuck if I know! Why do gay guys dance with straight girls at gay clubs? I have no idea. It’s one of life’s mysteries. I don’t suppose you have any insight?”
“God, no. I wouldn’t do it. Especially not if I looked like that guy!”
“Gee, thanks.”
“What was his name?”
“Oh. Uh. Shit, I didn’t even ask. I was calling him Dylan in my head. Do you think he looked like a Dylan?”
“No.”
“No? Not a Dylan?”
“Definitely not. Let’s go take another look,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back out into the club. Becky scanned the floor but didn’t see Dylan anywhere. Finally, she spotted him sitting on the floor against the wall, his head lolling backwards and his eyes closed. Apparently he’d been a little drunker than she’d thought.
“He’s over there.”
“Come on!”
“What? No! Chris-“ She shook her head and gave in as Chris dragged them over. He stopped a few feet away and nudged her.
“Go see if he’s okay.”
“What?!”
“He looks totally trashed. Go make sure he’s okay. And get his name.”
“What - oh my god, Chris, this is ridiculous,” but she went anyway, kneeling down and shaking Dylan’s shoulder. “Hey! You okay?”
Zach took a startled breath and looked up at her, smiling as her face appeared through the haze. “Hey, lady,” he said.
“Hi. Miss me?” He smiled dizzily back at her without answering. “So what’s your name, anyway?”
“Uh…it’s Zhach,” he slurred.
“Jack?”
“Zzzzach.”
“Oh. Okay.” She gestured for Chris to join them, and he knelt down beside them. “His name’s Zach.”
“He looks like a Zach,” Chris said, looking at him. Zach’s head was back against the wall and his eyes were closed again. He appeared to be breathing evenly, and he wasn’t frothing at the mouth or anything, so he was probably fine. Chris reached into the pocked of Zach’s jeans.
“Chris! What the hell are you doing?”
“Relax.” Chris pulled out Zach’s phone and dialed his number. He pulled his own phone out of his jacket, ended the call, and hit Save. He slid the phone back into Zach’s pocket, winked at Becky, and stood to leave.
Outside, he pulled Becky close, pressing their cheeks together as he stretched an arm out, aiming his camera phone at their faces. He took the picture and looked at the phone. Half of Becky’s face was cut off, but he looked like he was about to give the camera the night of its life, so it was a keeper. He pulled up Zach’s number, attached the picture, typed a few words, and hit Send.
“Come on, Bex,” he said. “Let’s go do shots in my apartment.”
**
Zach woke up on his own couch with a raging headache and a nagging suspicion that yet another Saturday night had passed with no attractive strangers in his apartment to show for it. He groaned and sat up, with a vague thought of heading for the bedroom, but everything swirled around him and he lay back down again. He was fully clothed except for one shoe - he cracked an eye open - okay, there it was on the floor, which meant this weekend was already better than last. He thought back to the night before, trying to remember. Gin and tonics, frustration, dancing - god, yes, the dancing, he remembered with a smile. That girl, that fucking sexy angel, sent down from heaven to press her hips up against him. He felt a spark of pleasure at the memory and glanced down at his crotch. Yeah, nothing. Still, it had left an impression. He didn’t remember much after the dancing, and he hoped he hadn’t barfed on her or anything. Hell, for all he knew, they’d gone out for pizza and become best friends. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check for missed calls and to see if maybe he’d gotten that hot bartender’s phone number. An envelope blinked on the screen. He opened the message and peered at the image that came up. Bright blue eyes smirked at him, plump lips teased above a strong, lightly stubbled jaw. Damn. Zach’s stomach did a little flip and he glanced down at his crotch. Yep, there we go. His head pounded again as he strained to remember if he’d done anything that would lead to this ridiculously attractive man sending Zach a picture of himself. He had nothing. The mind boggled. Zach scrolled down to see the message, praying that it hadn’t been a wrong number.
Becky enjoyed dancing with you. I’d enjoy doing more. Call me. -Chris
Becky? He scrolled up again. There she was! The girl from the night before! Well, half of her anyway, but it was enough to see that she was even cuter, and significantly less blurry, than he recalled. This hottie was her friend? Shit. Zach glanced at the clock and did a double-take. 4:30 in the afternoon, how had that happened? He rubbed a hand over his face and stood up, made his way into the kitchen and leaned heavily on the counter as he downed a large glass of water. He had to get over this hangover fast so he could give his new BFF Becky and her hot friend Chris a call. It was ‘80s night at Thrust, after all, and he was still in the mood to dance.
Sequel: you wanna go to a party tonight?
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: pre-Pinto
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,225
Description: Why do gay guys dance with straight girls at gay clubs? It’s one of life’s mysteries. (Gay Club AU?)
Warnings: OFC, Zach-on-girl dancing
A/N: For ewinfic’s pintofest luau prompt - Girls
A/N2: Title and cut text from the song I Got Soul, I'm So Wasted by Wallpaper.
Zach took a long sip of his gin and tonic and stared out over the club floor. He’d spent the last four drinks making eyes at the skinniest boys in the tightest jeans and the heaviest eyeliner, with no luck whatsoever. Now, halfway through the fifth, he was almost drunk enough to give up on sex, and just about ready to dance.
He surveyed the dance floor, looking for an approach, his eyes roaming over groups of boys and the occasional girl. It was a gay club, after all, and some guys just couldn’t go out without that added sense of security that a straight girl brings. Zach rolled his eyes a little at the thought. He didn’t need anyone to tell him he looked good - he could look in the mirror and see that for himself. And he’d always thought it was kind of jerky, the way those guys would ditch their hags the moment they spotted a potential hook-up. Plus, it wasn’t like he needed some girl to get him out on the dance floor.
Zach glanced at the bar, where he’d been leaning in a carefully calculated manner for the past hour. Okay, fine, maybe he did need a girl to get him out on the dance floor. He took a few cautious steps out onto the floor, clutching his drink to his chest. Tried to let the rhythm flow through him, bobbed his head a little, but that was about as much as he could make himself move without added motivation. God, why wasn’t anyone bumping into him or something, he just needed some kind of excuse - there. She was practically dancing by herself, the guy she’d come with turned almost all the way around to grind against some muscular dude who was yelling in his ear. Zach found himself drawn to her - to the way the light shone on her hair, the way her white shirt, unbuttoned to just this side of slutty, practically glowed in the darkness of the club. To her smile, which widened a little as she caught a glimpse of her friend sliding his arm around to grope the other guy’s ass. She watched for a few seconds as she danced, then tore her eyes away to check out the rest of the crowd. Zach couldn’t blame her - there were a lot of hot guys in here tonight, nice to look at even if there was no chance of anything more - and he should know, he thought with a grimace. Finally, she turned her gaze on Zach and caught him looking. She paused, blushed, and glanced away, still dancing. Zach admired the way she moved, loose, not jerky, feet and hips and arms coordinated, sexy without trying too hard. He took another step forward, close enough to touch, and she looked at him again. It was too loud to talk, but he wanted to keep her there, to keep her eyes on him - her eyes flicked down to his gin and tonic. He smiled shyly and held it out to her.
She bit her lip and grinned at him as she took it. He could see what she was thinking - this was a bad idea, taking a drink from a stranger in a club, but she felt reckless under Zach’s flattering stare. Zach took another step closer, set his hands on her hips as she took a sip, leaned down to say something in her ear.
“You look amazing.”
He could practically feel the heat rise to her cheeks. She took another sip and offered the drink back to him. He took it from her hand, set it on the floor, then stood and pressed closer to her until their bodies were aligned. She slid a hand around his neck as the song changed, a new beat pulsing through the speakers and pounding in Zach’s chest. His hands were loose on her waist, sliding up her sides and back and down over the curve of her ass as he let the movement of her hips guide him. “You’re so fucking hot,” he told her again, and he heard her surprised laugh in his ear. He took a step back, holding her hand, giving her a spin. Girls loved that, and she was no exception, laughing again, not a coquettish, flirty laugh, but genuine enjoyment, genuine appreciation. Zach knew she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him, and he was loving it just as much as she was, the rest of the club blurring around them. He pulled her close again, a full on grind for a minute, and he thanked god he was drunk. Wouldn’t want to be getting hard and giving her the wrong impression, after all. His dick was a sucker for pulsing beats and a warm body grinding up against it, but despite several optimistic attempts on Zach’s part, it consistently refused to appreciate the beauty of the female form upon closer examination.
Apparently, his dance partner hadn’t forgotten where she was, either, because she turned them a little and gestured toward the side of the dance floor at her friend.
“Hey,” she said in his ear, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “That’s my friend over there!”
He looked over again to where she was pointing and gave the guy a more thorough examination. He was dancing alone now, sipping a drink, squinting across the club and trying not to look too desperate. Brown hair, shorter than Zach usually liked - he couldn’t tell from this distance if it was styled - a tan jacket over a white dress shirt, loose jeans. The shoes were okay, and Zach thought he was probably cute enough, though he couldn’t get a good look at his eyes - but the guy really wasn’t his type. Zach shrugged. “He’s okay,” he shouted.
“Just okay?”
“Yeah.” Zach spun her again and steered her toward a group of guys that were his type, a mass of spiky hair and faux hawks, abstract t-shirts tight enough to show off their nipple rings. A few of them he’d seen around, and he was pretty sure he’d slept with one of them. They nodded at him and shifted to make room in their little circle.
“What’s your name?” one of them yelled to his new friend.
“Becky,” she yelled back.
“You’re pretty,” he said, and the others nodded in agreement.
Zach wrapped an arm around her chest and leaned down to kiss her on the temple. “Isn’t she? Gorgeous,” he added with a smile, taking her hands and tangling their fingers together, raising them in the air as a Lady Gaga remix thumped through the speakers. Zach was feeling a little woozy, and he let himself lean a little, his chest against Becky’s back as they danced. She was getting antsy though, he could tell, glancing around trying to keep an eye on her friend, wherever he’d gone. Finally, she turned around.
“I gotta go,” she shouted. “Sorry.”
Zach shrugged, still dancing.
“It’s been fun,” she said with a glowing smile, and she slipped away across the dance floor.
**
“Real nice, Bex,” Chris grumbled when she found him moping in the stairwell a few minutes later. “Way to be a wingman.”
“What are you talking about? What happened to that guy you were playing grab-ass with?”
“He ditched me like five seconds after you left,” Chris said morosely.
“Man. That sucks. Why didn’t you come over?!”
“Um, I didn’t want to interrupt? I can’t fucking believe you get more action at a gay club than I do.”
“Yeah, well, I prefer my ‘action’ with a little more tongue in the mouth.”
“What, you didn’t make out with him?”
“Are you kidding me? No. Did you see that guy? He was pretty much as gay as they come.”
“Oh.” Chris furrowed his brow. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Why was he dancing with you?”
“Fuck if I know! Why do gay guys dance with straight girls at gay clubs? I have no idea. It’s one of life’s mysteries. I don’t suppose you have any insight?”
“God, no. I wouldn’t do it. Especially not if I looked like that guy!”
“Gee, thanks.”
“What was his name?”
“Oh. Uh. Shit, I didn’t even ask. I was calling him Dylan in my head. Do you think he looked like a Dylan?”
“No.”
“No? Not a Dylan?”
“Definitely not. Let’s go take another look,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back out into the club. Becky scanned the floor but didn’t see Dylan anywhere. Finally, she spotted him sitting on the floor against the wall, his head lolling backwards and his eyes closed. Apparently he’d been a little drunker than she’d thought.
“He’s over there.”
“Come on!”
“What? No! Chris-“ She shook her head and gave in as Chris dragged them over. He stopped a few feet away and nudged her.
“Go see if he’s okay.”
“What?!”
“He looks totally trashed. Go make sure he’s okay. And get his name.”
“What - oh my god, Chris, this is ridiculous,” but she went anyway, kneeling down and shaking Dylan’s shoulder. “Hey! You okay?”
Zach took a startled breath and looked up at her, smiling as her face appeared through the haze. “Hey, lady,” he said.
“Hi. Miss me?” He smiled dizzily back at her without answering. “So what’s your name, anyway?”
“Uh…it’s Zhach,” he slurred.
“Jack?”
“Zzzzach.”
“Oh. Okay.” She gestured for Chris to join them, and he knelt down beside them. “His name’s Zach.”
“He looks like a Zach,” Chris said, looking at him. Zach’s head was back against the wall and his eyes were closed again. He appeared to be breathing evenly, and he wasn’t frothing at the mouth or anything, so he was probably fine. Chris reached into the pocked of Zach’s jeans.
“Chris! What the hell are you doing?”
“Relax.” Chris pulled out Zach’s phone and dialed his number. He pulled his own phone out of his jacket, ended the call, and hit Save. He slid the phone back into Zach’s pocket, winked at Becky, and stood to leave.
Outside, he pulled Becky close, pressing their cheeks together as he stretched an arm out, aiming his camera phone at their faces. He took the picture and looked at the phone. Half of Becky’s face was cut off, but he looked like he was about to give the camera the night of its life, so it was a keeper. He pulled up Zach’s number, attached the picture, typed a few words, and hit Send.
“Come on, Bex,” he said. “Let’s go do shots in my apartment.”
**
Zach woke up on his own couch with a raging headache and a nagging suspicion that yet another Saturday night had passed with no attractive strangers in his apartment to show for it. He groaned and sat up, with a vague thought of heading for the bedroom, but everything swirled around him and he lay back down again. He was fully clothed except for one shoe - he cracked an eye open - okay, there it was on the floor, which meant this weekend was already better than last. He thought back to the night before, trying to remember. Gin and tonics, frustration, dancing - god, yes, the dancing, he remembered with a smile. That girl, that fucking sexy angel, sent down from heaven to press her hips up against him. He felt a spark of pleasure at the memory and glanced down at his crotch. Yeah, nothing. Still, it had left an impression. He didn’t remember much after the dancing, and he hoped he hadn’t barfed on her or anything. Hell, for all he knew, they’d gone out for pizza and become best friends. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check for missed calls and to see if maybe he’d gotten that hot bartender’s phone number. An envelope blinked on the screen. He opened the message and peered at the image that came up. Bright blue eyes smirked at him, plump lips teased above a strong, lightly stubbled jaw. Damn. Zach’s stomach did a little flip and he glanced down at his crotch. Yep, there we go. His head pounded again as he strained to remember if he’d done anything that would lead to this ridiculously attractive man sending Zach a picture of himself. He had nothing. The mind boggled. Zach scrolled down to see the message, praying that it hadn’t been a wrong number.
Becky enjoyed dancing with you. I’d enjoy doing more. Call me. -Chris
Becky? He scrolled up again. There she was! The girl from the night before! Well, half of her anyway, but it was enough to see that she was even cuter, and significantly less blurry, than he recalled. This hottie was her friend? Shit. Zach glanced at the clock and did a double-take. 4:30 in the afternoon, how had that happened? He rubbed a hand over his face and stood up, made his way into the kitchen and leaned heavily on the counter as he downed a large glass of water. He had to get over this hangover fast so he could give his new BFF Becky and her hot friend Chris a call. It was ‘80s night at Thrust, after all, and he was still in the mood to dance.
Sequel: you wanna go to a party tonight?