Author's note: Jeff McShaw's theory of gravity has also appeared on Swedish comedy show Anders & Måns. Since that show is much younger than the setting of this story, you can assume that Anders & Måns have been hanging with Jeff, or that they came up with the theory independently, whichever you prefer.

He must have spent half an hour trying to find the right combination of relaxed and cool clothes from his closet, but when Nathan knocked on Paul's door he still felt awkward and underdressed. Nobody made any comments, though, and once Paul looked into his bag with the vodka, he was quickly welcomed and taken inside.

The party had only just gotten started. There was dance music and already quite a crowd, but they were mostly gathered around the still-full snack bowls, using chips and their pay-ticket booze to gain courage. A few had dared to make it onto the dance floor. One of them, he discovered as he came closer, was Hannah.

Her arms were in the air, whiskey bottle in one hand, head thrown back, and she sang along with the music at the top of her lungs: "We're not gonna take it anymoooooore!"

All his nervousness lost, he watched her in fascination, until she noticed him and waved him closer: "Nathan! Come over here, dance with me!"

"Uhm, no. Not just yet." If he was going to make a fool of himself in front of all these people, he wanted plenty of them to be making fools of themselves too. He marvelled at Hannah's fearlessness, but the smell of her breath made him look down at the amount of whiskey left in her bottle, and marvel a little less. "Did you drink all that already?"

"Sshh, Nathan," she whispered, pulling him aside in a doorway. "Of course not. I drank like a mouthful. It was half empty when I found it. But if I pretend that drank half the bottle before even getting here, then I'm drunk and can do whatever I want. Get it?"

He laughed. "Got it."

"Your turn. Where's your booze?"

"No, I..." Though it wasn't such a bad idea, really. He dug out his bottle of vodka, opened it, and took a swig, bracing himself for the taste. To his surprise, it didn't taste like much at all.

"That's it. We can pour a little out, if you want."

After the money he'd paid for it, he most certainly did not want, and he shook his head. Besides, if he was going to dance, he needed more courage than that mouthful could give. He hurried to take one more and then screwed the cap back on. The bottle was only meant to get him into the house, after all, not to get him drunk.

"Suit yourself. Oh!" The music had changed to 'Iko Iko' and Hannah lit up. "I love this song. Do you think I could sing it in church and pretend I'm speaking in tongues?"

"Your dad may be a fossil, but I don't think he's that out of the loop."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

She dragged him back onto the dance floor, and he shoved the bottle of vodka back in his shoulder bag, not daring to wave it around the way Hannah did with hers.

His feet felt too large and his arms too stiff, and he was way too aware of everyone's eyes on them, but he did his best to ignore it all and dance the way Hannah did. After a while, it even worked. More people were joining them on the floor instead of standing around by the snack bowls, and possibly that vodka had finally kicked in too. He even kind of enjoyed himself.

"Jack!" Hannah called out happily.

Sure enough, when Nathan turned around he saw Hannah's cousin Jack arriving, and could spot Jeff McShaw behind him. This made his heart thump in expectation even before he saw the person behind Jeff.

...Duke, with his arm around Becca, resting comfortably as if it had been there for a while. Nathan swallowed, but had little time to think, as Hannah bounced to greet Jack and he had the choice of following her or being left to dance with a bunch of half-strangers. He opted for the former, shoving his sweaty hands in his pockets.

"Hi, Hannah," Jack said with a grin. "Nathan. Party in full force, I see?"

"I'm having a blast!" Hannah declared. "But it's even better with you here. Come dance with me!"

She pulled Jack away before he had a chance to say no, and Jeff looked from them to Duke and Becca, to the various crowds of people in the room. In the end, he shrugged, put his bottle of wine on the table, and joined the others on the dance floor.

This left Nathan with Duke... and Becca, who was looking more amorous by the second. He knew he should leave them be, and yet he hesitated long enough that Duke raised a quizzical, amused eyebrow at him.

"I'll..." Nathan said, and then he turned on his heel and went back to Hannah and the guys, digging the vodka out of his bag for another mouthful. Maybe that would make this clusterfuck all right.

Even Hannah couldn't dance forever, and somehow as the night went on, they all gathered by the sofa, talking. Nathan sat on the floor with his head against the armrest, facing Hannah and Jeff who had cozied up in a chair. He was a little bit surprised to see that Jeff seemed to keep his hands mostly to himself – somehow that wasn't what he would have expected from a friend of Duke's with a girl practically in his lap.

Jack, Becca, and Duke were sitting on the sofa, which meant that Duke's leg occasionally brushed against Nathan's back. Nathan was grateful not to have to see what they got up to, except on those instances where Duke let go and leaned forward for a swig from his bottle. When he did, Nathan sometimes managed to time his reach for his own bottle, to bring their hands closer together, even touching skin a few times.

Jeff had been sharing Hannah's whiskey as well as his own wine, and was getting very loud and cheerful. "Gravity," he explained, "only exists because of evolution."

Becca laughed. "Even I know that's not right."

"No, no, no, no, hear me out. See, if things fall up, they disappear into space. And die. And can't..."

"Fuck," Duke filled in, sending a shiver through Nathan's body.

"Mate. But things that fall down stay on earth, and can mate. And they spread their genes and are happy."

"What about falling sideways?" Hannah asked with a laugh.

"They fall off the sides. Can't spread their genes. Only gravity things can spread their genes. Evolution."

"Sound scientific reasoning," Duke said, completely deadpan while everyone else was laughing.

"Yes!" Jeff agreed. "Sound... what you said."

He headed into another mock scientific explanation, this time about why bread rises, and Nathan smiled. The floor was rising just like bread, and it tilted in a way that suggested gravity was no longer in effect. The whole thing made his stomach turn, so he closed his eyes, which improved matters.

"Hey, Nathan, are you okay?" That was Duke. Like he actually cared.

"I think he's falling asleep," said Hannah.

"Nathan, seriously." The world shifted as Duke got down on the floor and slapped his face slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Floating off into space," Nathan mumbled.

"Is anyone coming for you, buddy?"

That was a new one. Right then, Nathan wasn't sure of a lot of things, but he was sure they weren't buddies.

"Jeannine's mom," he said and giggled.

"That was our cover story," Hannah said, so close that he peered up and saw that she and Jeff were now crouching above him too.

"Okay, that's it, I'm taking you home," Duke said, and got an arm in under Nathan. It was the closest to an intimate touch they had had all night, and Nathan melted into it, even though he knew he was supposed to stand up.

"Now!?" Becca protested. "Are you kidding me? Just let him sleep it off."

"He's drunk as a skunk and his father's a cop," Duke said. "Be smarter than that."

"Oh, so now I'm stupid?"

Someone else's arm on his other side, and his foggy brain supplied him with Jeff's name. "No, no, I can stand," Nathan protested and did so, though it made everything spin more.

"One step at a time," Duke instructed him.

Having him so close was wonderful, but Nathan still remembered a promise he'd made about tonight. "I can't leave. Got to make sure that no one's shitty to Hannah."

"I've got Jack in here and Jeannine in the kitchen," Hannah said. She sounded way too sober – but then Nathan remembered that she'd been faking it. "I'll be fine."

"Can someone get a glass of water?" Duke asked.

They made it over to the hallway, where Nathan sat down and drank the glass of water that was given to him. It didn't make any difference as far as he could tell, but it was nice to drink something that wasn't vodka.

And then they were out the door, just him and Duke, slowly making their way back to his house along a road that had seemed a lot more even earlier that day.

"If I'd known that you would be so much trouble, I'd never have sold you that vodka," Duke complained. "Should have stuck with the wine Jeff stole from his parents' restaurant. Damn, you're heavy. How much have you been drinking?"

"No more than you," Nathan said, affronted.

"Yeah, but this isn't my first time. I'm guessing it's yours. Did you even eat any supper?"

"I had some sandwiches. Dad's working."

"Sandwiches. That's great." Duke pulled him along a little further, but then they both stumbled and Duke hauled him off to a patch of grass on the side of the road, where they stayed to rest for a while.

Nathan lay down and looked up the sky, which lurched and heaved much like that Van Gogh painting. Bits of it seemed to be getting closer. "I'm gonna fall off the earth."

"You're really not."

"And never mate." His head didn't like to be moved, but he glanced at Duke from the corner of his eyes. "You don't love me," he said accusingly.

"Jesus, Nate..."

"You don't love anyone. You go through them like... rubella and you don't love them. Like Becca, tonight."

"Becca's just a bit of fun. She knows that."

"Or Jeannine," he continued. "Or Julia, if you've even bothered to notice her. I don't even know what happened with Kenny Edwards."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Duke said, pulling his knees up. It seemed like he was frowning, but it was hard to tell from this angle.

"Oh, what?" Nathan scoffed. "Like they dumped you?"

"You say that like it couldn't happen."

Nathan folded his arms under his head and sighed. "I love you," he said at the night sky. "I love you so much it hurts, and I never know when you're gonna dump me. Every day I think this is it, this is where the 'bit of fun' ends and I'll never get to be with you again, kiss you again, blow you..."

"For fuck's sake, Nathan." Duke untangled his legs and moved over, elbows on either side of Nathan's body and those deep brown eyes mournful and hungry at the same time. "You're the only thing worth a damn in this shitty town. In this shitty life."

Fingers brushed through his hair, and then Duke's mouth was on his, soft and tender like never before. It was what he'd been waiting for all night, and it felt divine. He met the kiss, broke it and kissed another spot, Duke's mouth on his face, his neck, further down the chest and then back to the mouth again. As good as it felt at first, Nathan also became increasingly aware of his spinning head and queasy stomach. The sensation of Duke's tongue in his mouth triggered his gag reflex, and he pulled back, groaning.

"I don't feel so good."

The alcohol rose up in his mouth to prove his point, and Duke helped turn him aside as he puked on the grass.

"There you go, get it all out," Duke muttered, rubbing circles on Nathan's back. "All done? You stupid bastard. Okay, let's get you back on your feet and on your way. Make sure to drink some milk before you go to bed."

Nathan laughed. "What are you, my mom?" Standing up made it easier to catch Duke's gaze. "Did you mean that?"

"That you're a stupid bastard? You bet."

"That I'm the only good thing in your life."

Duke looked away. "Come on, it's not much farther."

That was a lie if there ever was one, but somehow they made it all the way home – or at least to the corner two houses away, where Duke leaned Nathan against the mailbox and asked, "Can you make it back home on your own? I don't want to have to face the barrels of your fathers shotgun."

"He doesn't have a shotgun," Nathan said. "He has a standard issue Beretta. And a Glock, but he hates that one."

"Well, that's so much better. Are you okay to go?"

Nathan straightened up. Some of his dizziness had worn off after he puked. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Through careful balancing, he made it the last couple of blocks home, pretty sure that Duke was still watching from a distance, and by some kind of miracle he also managed to find his keys. Unlocking the door was another matter, and by the time he was finished with that and had stepped inside, his dad was standing on the stairs, expression hidden in shadows but clear from his stance. Nathan dropped the keys on the floor and sighed.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Dad asked.

Nathan had no idea what to say for himself. His head was nowhere near up to the task of producing any defence, and his stomach was still doing flips. "I need a glass of milk."

Dad turned on the light, which made Nathan hiss in pain as it hit his eyes. Now he knew how vampires felt.

"You're drunk, it's half past twelve, the woman who was supposed to drive you home has never heard of you, and I was just about to go out looking for you." Dad walked down the stairs with too heavy strides and frowned at Nathan. "Did you at least get the girl safely home?"

"What girl?"

"The one who gave you those hickeys. Janice, or whatever her name was."

That made Nathan laugh helplessly, because Jeannine would never look twice at him, and Dad thinking that there was a girl out there was infinitely preferable to the truth, the glorious truth that Duke Crocker had left his mark on him. "There's no girl, Dad."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. There isn't."

"Now, you listen to me, son, if you've left some poor girl out there to make her way home alone, or she's still at that party..."

"Dad. Dad, I'm serious. No girl."

"Where does that Robbie live?"

The demand sent Nathan into another burst of giggles, at the thought that his dad still believed that the party was at Robbie's. With a final "We'll talk about this tomorrow!" Dad stormed out of the house, and Nathan went to find that glass of milk and, eventually his bed.

When Nathan woke up in the morning, still wearing his T-shirt, he felt even worse than the night before. His head was pounding, and while he'd heard of people who got blackouts from drinking, he had no such luck. He remembered everything, including the fact that he'd have to face his dad's wrath once again.

That was enough reason to stay in bed forever, and he lay back down on the pillow with a groan, allowing sleep to take him over once more. He had no idea how long he slept, but when he next woke up, there was a glass of juice on his bedside table, along with a cold piece of honey toast and an aspirin. He swallowed the aspirin and slowly chewed down the toast with the help of the juice, before deciding that it was time to face the music.

When he got to the kitchen, his dad was sitting there with a cup of coffee in front of him, glaring in silence. No one could glare like Dad.

"Thanks for the... stuff," Nathan said, uncomfortably.

"Sit down," Dad said, and since it couldn't be mistaken for anything but an order, Nathan obeyed. "I found that party eventually. Broke it off, sent everyone home. No one had to go to the hospital, this time. Kids and alcohol don't mix, son. What you did was stupid and reckless, and someone could have gotten hurt. Is that clear?"

Nathan looked down on the table. Many years ago, they used to have a checkered, waxed cotton tablecloth, and he suddenly wondered what had become of it. The table looked so bare without one. "Yes, sir."

"It's another four and a half years before you get to drink. The amount of years until you get to lie to me is never. You're grounded for a week, and from now on, if you go anywhere at all, I will drive you there, I will drive you home, I will personally talk to the parents to make sure that they will be there. If I'm not available to do those things, you don't go. Those rules are from now and until I know I can trust you, and if they seem harsh, you think about last night and everything that could have happened."

"Yes, sir," Nathan mumbled again.

"Where did you get the alcohol?"

"A friend."

"What friend?"

Nathan didn't say anything. He knew he was making things worse for himself by staying silent, but it didn't matter. There was no way that he could sell out Duke. While his dad pressed the question, Nathan sat quiet, staring at the cup marks on the table.

"Son, I've dealt with criminals a lot more hardened than you, and got the truth out of them."

"Yeah?" Nathan raised his head. "Are you going to throw me in jail, then? Rough me up with your nightstick?"

Dad stared at him, ready to say something, and then shook his head and stood up, taking his coffee cup over to the sink to rinse it. "Stupid, stubborn brat."

That finished the conversation, though Nathan wasn't naïve enough to figure it was the last he'd hear of it.