Danny set his third glass of punch down on the table the exact moment another up-close and personal song, much like what was playing when he first walked in, started on the stereo. He slid his fingers up and down his glass in frustration as he tried to ignore the man talking into his ear and the hand slowly, gently grasping his arm trying to steer him away from the table and onto the dance floor where an unlimited amount of body parts would brush against him in the time span of a single song.
Glaring threateningly at the pitcher of orange soda wondering why they couldn't have just left it in the bottle Danny tried again to shake the persistent hand off his upper arm, hoping he wouldn't have to push the guy away because his face angled more towards his neck now then his ear. No preliminaries, no pickup lines, no openly displayed interest other then a conversation, this guy was either so deep in the closet he was seeing Narnia or was too stupid to know that he couldn't hear with his chin.
The orange juice was unaffected by his death glare bubbling in happiness unaware if its imminent doom.
The reflection of himself and his…companion was disgusting. He shook his head to loosen his hair from his sweaty forehead, successfully gaining a few inches between him and the lips that tried to press a kiss to the skin directly beneath his ear.
No matter, Danny was just too glad to get away when Dash grabbed him by the shoulders and led him out onto the floor, completely forgetting about the orange soda and his distaste for close dancing songs.
That didn't last long though when Danny stood still as a zombie before reanimation while people all around him slunk in close to soak up body heat like they were trying to avoid freezing to death. He didn't know how to dance to these songs, he proffered choreographed steps or better yet rock, but just sliding against each other….he didn't get that.
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Poor Danny can dance to any song that requires actual steps, but even fun Danny can't ignore the nervousness tickling his belly when he gets too close to someone.
I hate naming OC characters when their only there to further the plotline, so MR. Soccer Captain man has no name. Neither does the popular hostess…and a majority of other characters. Deal with it.