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The party roared on. In the dim lighted hallway, conversation from the main crowd dribbled off. It crept into the nooks and crannies of the yellow painted walls. This little room of to the side of it appeared to be someone's hangout area, their Mancave, whoever owned the house. That yet was unknown to everyone in the room.
Josh lay, comatose, in one of the brown suede bean bag chairs throughout the room. He lifted his head up to get the attention of the others in the room. Cups littered the floor. They hadn't been the first inhabitants.
"Let's do something. Something fun," he said, struggling to sit up in the chair, vibrant purple hair getting mussed from the effort. "While we wait for Tyler to get back." Tyler was Josh's friend who had left minutes before to do another run of the house, searching for excitement.
No response came from the other few people in the room. It took a second to settle in, as if "having fun" was a foreign concept at this party where half of the people seemed to just be lounging around.
"Yeah.." Pete rolled out of his bean bag chair, displacing several of the cups on the floor. Maybe some of them were his. He sat up on the floor, shoving the lumpy chair next to him as if he knew the person in it well.
"Paaatrick."
The man in the chair budged, bothered by this nuisance.
"Patrick, were you sleeping?"
"Nah, I was just...bored." he rolled out of his seat in the same awkward, spasmodic way the rest had.
A woman with golden wavy hair, leaning up against the wall due to lack of proper seats, opened one eye to grumble a question to Patrick. She smiled, "How many drinks have you had?" It drowned out to a pathetic question at the end.
He stretched, yawning. all the while, Josh was pacing the room. "A few, maybe four." He reached down to finish what was remaining in one of the upright cups. He downed it with a grimace.
"I'm taking suggestions," Josh was still pacing.
"Beer pong!" Pete suggested defiantly as the first volunteer.
"There aren't any fucking tables in here, Pete," Patrick mumbled, face down in the bean bag.
"Any more?" Josh urged on. As soon as Tyler returned, it didn't really matter. They'd find fun on their own.
The woman against the wall spoke up again. "Seven minutes in heaven! But I'm not gonna be part of it."
"You don't get to suggest if you're not gonna play, Greta," Josh added. He waited a moment for more suggestions but none came. "So that's-"
"Alright, screw it. I'm up for seven minutes in heaven, but soon as Tyler gets back, tell him I've gotta head home." Patrick sat up into a position that prevented him from sinking back into the chair again.
"How do we pick?" Pete asked.
Josh walked over to a small side-table that had some cards and a few dice on it. It looked like someone had ditched mid-blackjack.
"We'll use these," he said, picking up a handful of dice. "If anyone gets the same roll, they have to go in the closet together." He pointed to a small, almost invisible half-closet in the corner. It was a tiny bit open so they knew it would work.
"Greta, you're playing, too," Josh pointed to her, with more energy than the whole group combined. He tossed a die to Patrick and Greta; Pete wasn't paying attention so it landed in his lap. Josh took the last one, a red one, and cleared out a section of floor from cups. It was a shockingly nice golden hardwood floor.
He rolled first. The die landed with the one side facing up.
"Oh, nice, you're number one." Pete was paying attention now.
Josh wondered what Tyler could've gotten caught up in to be gone so long.
"Everyone else roll theirs. What are you waiting for?"
"I don't know man; I've had a lot to drink." Patrick sat up taller to prepare for the die roll.
"It's cause of your size. We're tiny people," Pete took the opportunity to roll next. Greta had already rolled and announced loudly by now that she had gotten a six.
"Roll, Patrick." Josh had turned around to find Patrick half-talking to himself. What an odd bunch. He missed Tyler. The die he rolled flew under the table. He went to go slide it out.
Pete had rolled the die and was assessing it expertly. "I got a-"
"Five!" Patrick declared.
"How'd you know I got that. You're over there-" Pete continued.
"Oh, no, man, I got a five, too."
"Well, then," Greta was tossing her die in the air, catching it.
Pete and Patrick were still staring at their dice.
"Are you sure it's a five?"
"I'm not that drunk."
"Alright!" Josh hopped over to the closet. "Get in there! It's the rules!"
Pete groaned. Patrick stood up, mumbling, "It's just seven minutes in a closet, come on."
There was not much more resistance from the two, which surprised the two onlookers. Josh held the creaky fold-out closet door open, smirking. The two fated men walked with a hint of shame towards the closet. Mere inches from the doorway, they heard girlish giggling. This was a dire warning sign, and they realized this as they got pushed in the the tiny little closet. Greta was the culprit. The door slid shut and they stumbled awkwardly into the closet. Greta's surprise attack gave them no time to prepare a stylish fall so they landed almost face down in the dark, small room. It was crowded and full of random nicknacks, as if this was the house owner's "secret" closet where they kept all their useless crap.
"Okay! It's 11:14. We'll let you out at :21, boys. Have fun." Josh was still waiting on Tyler's return, and he was hoping that occurred some time within the next seven minutes.
"Ugh, you're elbowing my hip. Where's my hat?" The sudden push had caught them off-guard, which caused them to fall on top of each other almost romantically.
"You left it out there when you were sleeping," Pete laughed quietly as to not catch the attention of Josh or Greta.
They both were blushing in this awkward situation, and could feel it burning through their faces. The darkness masked this, though, keeping their secrets among the piles of coats and stepladders.
They squirmed around, either getting stabbed in the rib by the other's elbow or a stray umbrella. The slit of light coming from the area of space under the door was the only point of interest.
"Can you-"
"No, sorry."
"Seven minutes sure feels like a lot of time to do nothing with," Patrick whispered.
"What? What are-"
"No, seriously. What if, when we die, all we wished for ourselves was just, like, seven more minutes?" Patrick whispered feverishly.
It was quiet for a few seconds as he tried his best to get up, off of Pete. To his failure, he collapsed back down again.
"What?" Pete was still trying to make sense of Patrick's whiskey-laced words.
"But I'm just saying" he whispered more ferociously quiet and closer to Pete's ear, "we won't remember. Maybe we should...make the best...of the remaining minutes?"
"Oh my god, if you could just listen to yourself right now..."
"I am listening to myself right now!"
Josh yelled from the other room, "Three minutes down, love bugs!" They jumped, forgetting that there were people on the other side of the closet door that may be listening.
Pete got where he was going. "That's crazy...You have a girlfriend, in the other room, too." He could feel Patrick smile in the way he did so with an exhale.
"Let's play another game. Called Truth...or Dare...but just Dare, really," he whispered with as little impact as he could.
Pete sighed. Finally, after years of him making things awkward, Patrick was finally getting him back.
"Do you want to play the game, Peter?" he giggled from the alcohol and lack of mental stimulation.
Pete groaned but then smiled. "You know what? As awkward as this is, it's a party I'm willing to lose control of."
"Okay." Patrick paused for a second, letting the suspense build up, "I dare you to kiss me."
"You two having fun in there?" They heard Greta declare from what seemed like a far away place.
"Um. Yeah." Pete took this as the perfect time to just go for it. If it made Patrick forget about his whole philosophical dilemma, he'd do it and forget about it upon waking up.
He decided to lean into him, before he regretted it, crudely guessing where Patrick's face was among this mess of a closet. On accident, they bumped noses and laughed. They both prayed to the god of awkward but fateful pairings that the two goofy onlookers wouldn't hear them. He kissed him, shaking and hoping that Patrick would lose interest after a second or two. After a few seconds when Patrick didn't let up, and instead got more into it, Pete decided to go along for the ride. Patrick's soft lips and drunken breath almost made Pete forget he was kissing his best friend.
Patrick sighed into the kiss, glad that he'd convinced Pete to do this as he got a little too into it and slipped his tongue into Pete's mouth. As much as Pete tried to keep it a platonic kiss, a moan escaped him which led to Patrick pulling away a bit. He patted him on the back as if that was an entirely normal thing to do while kissing somebody.
"60! 59! 58!" Josh and Greta had begun counting down the last minute of the seven in heaven.
The countdown set off some kind of fuse within them, kick starting their hearts. Whether they were enjoying it or not didn't matter anymore as they continued kissing with even more passion.
"See," Patrick growled, pulling away from Pete's lips seductively. Greta and Josh counted down the last few seconds.
Pete sat back, dazed and sweating as Greta erratically yanked the door open. Blinding light poured in illuminating the fallen, covered in women's clothes and lawn furniture. They blinked, dilated eyes hiding behind their lids.
"Alright, guys. Tyler's back. You can all get out of here," Josh said, walking out of the room.
Still shocked, Patrick and Pete sat in the closet, until Greta's departure cause them to snap back to the present. Patrick scrambled up, grabbing his hat on the bean bag chair. Pete followed, kicking over some of the cups on the ground.
"Let's not bring this up," Patrick briefly mentioned, putting his hat back on.
"I won't. I'm out of here." Pete skipped out, running into someone else entering the room.
Another girl came in, "Patrick, there you are. I'm gonna go head out with Jack if you don't mind."
"Erin. Oh. Wait, can I come with you? I can't drive. I've had a little bit to drink."
"Sure, Nate's gotta go home so we'll drive him there," she said, kissing him. She noticed his lips felt a little as if someone else had recently been kissing him. Greta was long gone and thus was out of the equation. She gave him a funny look, not asking.
"Yeah, there was a game..."
"That's alright, same with me."