Saturday Night’s Alright

“Fucking clown,” barked the muscled youth, squaring himself to Cam.

“I said I was sorry,” Cam said, raising his hands and smiling at the larger young man. Cam was no shrimp, but this guy was a beast.

“Sorry? You’re a fucking tool,” snarled the beer soaked youth, face flush from heavy consumption of alcohol.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Cam said, shaking his head.

The music stopped, a murmur rising up from the crowd, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“Maybe you want to take this shit outside,” growled the oversized young man, sneering and peeling off his wet shirt exposing a very well-defined and rippled upper body.

Shaking his head, Cam tried to turn away, “Sorry,” he repeated, “I don’t want to fight.”

“Pussy,” chortled the bigger youth, throwing his shirt at Cam.

“Whatever man,” Cam said, turning his back to the other boy.

Closing the distance, the big youth pushed Cam hard in the back from behind, causing him to stumble forward and fall to his knees. “I wasn’t done with you!”

“Hey,” Oliver said, slipping between two onlookers, glaring at the other youth who was grinning over Cam.

“You want some of this?” asked the aggressor, spreading his hands, a flash of bright pink on his wrist.

Helping Cam back to his feet, Oliver looked at the other boy, “Why don’t you go get yourself another drink and just settle down,” he said, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you blow me?” the other boy chortled.

“Why don’t you apologize to my friend?” Oliver said, stepping forward in the open circle, a determined cast to his expression.

“Oliver, just let it go,” Cam said, brushing his hands over his knees.

“Listen to your queer bait boyfriend and fuck off before you get hurt,” insulted the larger youth.

Drawing up close, Oliver shook his head, “Apologize,” he repeated.

The burly youth’s fist came up fast, but Oliver was faster, nimbly dodging the strike and bringing his fist directly into the other boy’s face, the youth’s lower lip splitting under his fist and instantly unleashing a stream of bright red blood.

“Shit!” commented an onlooker as the bleeding youth brought hands up to his face and staggered blindly backward a few paces and collapsing flat on his butt.

Point made, Oliver did not press the advantage and hit the other young man again, though he kept vigilantly alert lest another of the other guy’s friends tried to sucker him.

Shaking his head, “Holy,” said Cam, an element of surprise in his voice. “Shit just got real.”

“I think maybe we should go,” Oliver said, looking to Cam.

“I didn’t know you could throw down,” Cam replied, “you pwned that guy!”

Oliver felt a pair of small hands encircling his arm. Turning his head, there was a girl standing there. He had seen here before, at the Omega Pi house. It was the dark haired girl with the predatory blue eyes who had summoned Sersei for Cam earlier in the week, though he didn’t know her name. She was dressed in a snug blue dress a shade deeper than her eyes, hair drawn back

“Cute and valorous,” she said, leaning into him and pressing her body against his side, her eyes holding his a moment, coy smile blossoming on her lovely face.

Cam stepped around, big grin on his face, “Cam, we met at the Omega Pi house,” he said, extending his hand.

She glanced at the proffered hand then up to his face, smile slipping, replaced by a glacial look of irritation, “Right,” she said, turning away from him and back to Oliver.

Wrapping his arms about himself, Cam looked at Oliver and clenched his teeth, miming a shiver behind the girl’s back.

“Cerys,” she said, releasing his arm and touching his cheek.

“Oliver,” he replied.

“I know,” she said softly, smile reappearing.  Bringing her arm up between them, there was a pink band around her wrist. Slipping it off her arm, “I want you to wear this for me,” she said, extending it toward him.

“Okay,” he replied dumbly, nodding his head and allowing her to place the band on his wrist next to Sersei’s.

A hush fell over the crowd as the hulking youth with the bloody mouth climbed back to his feet, murderous intent in his eyes. Cerys snapped her head in his direction, unrelenting blue eyes on the big youth.

“I,” he mumbled, wiping blood from his face.

“You what?” she challenged, tone razor sharp.

“Um,” he noised, shaking his head.

Sersei appeared at the edge of the crowd, looking radiant in a vibrant fuchsia colored dress, another girl Oliver had not seen before at her side and also dressed in a tight little dress.

“Go home before you get embarrassed any further,” Cerys commended, raising her hand and pointing in the direction of the door.

“Go!” snapped Sersei, stepping into the circle, expression angry as she too pointed in the same direction.

The brawny youth looked from one girl to the other and nodded, the crowd parting to let him leave.

It was such an odd sight, not only watching the huge youth cowed by the girls, but by how the crowd itself seemed to defer to them.

Turning back to Oliver, Cerys leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, “Later,” she whispered, eyes moving to Sersei before she nodded.

“Oliver!” Sersei squealed, moving in close and throwing her arms over his shoulders, hugging him, the smell of alcohol mingled with her perfume. The music started again.

Adrenalin still coursing through his body, he was very aware of her firm breasts crushed up against his chest, “Sersei,” he replied almost breathlessly.

Angling her head slight to the side, she pressed her mouth against his, kissing him strongly before disengaging, giggling as she touched the back of her right hand to her mouth, “I can’t believe you made it,” or, “I can’t wait to take you,” he thought he heard her say, but with the music, he wasn’t sure exactly what and before he had a chance to ask, she was gone, lost in the horde of people partying.

Cam tugged at his arm, “C’mon Oliver,” he urged.

Letting himself be drawn, Oliver followed Cam outside.

“You are a man of mystery,” Cam congratulated, “I mean the way you dropped that guy with one shot. POW! Down he went like a sack of potatoes,” he added emphatically, clapping hand down on Oliver’s shoulder.

Oliver shrugged, “I did a little boxing back home, nothing serious,” he said. His stepdad Stan had been a former Gold Gloves boxer in his youth and had been teaching Oliver for the past couple of years.

“You certainly caught the attention of the ice queen before you lip locked my sister,” Cam chuckled, pointing at the second pink band on Oliver’s wrist.

Oliver looked at it, grinned and nodded, the sensation and taste of Sersei lingering on his lips.

“I think tomorrow, we need to drop in on the lovely ladies of Omega Pi,” Cam said, nodding as they walked back toward their dorm room.