fandomtownies | The beach, after sunset Saturday

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The beach, after sunset Saturday

It was Chuck Bass's birthday and by god Blair was going to throw him a party.

By the time sunset arrived a section of the beach had been turned into a party zone. Green silk curtains had been hung up to help define the party space (and provide some privacy for anyone who wanted it). There were tables of food and drink ~~entirely moddable~~ which included Chuck's favorites ~~and product-placed Vitamin Water~~ as well as the birthday cake.

Music was playing, fires were lit to help keep things warm - all in all not a bad little birthday party on the beach.

All that remained was the party goers and the birthday boy.

[ocd is up!]

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"Sooo what's it going to take to get you out to dance tonight?" Angela asked, cheerfully making her way over.

"A lot of persuasion," he laughed. "I'm on my guard tonight."

"Aww." She put on a mock pout for just a moment there. "Why?"

"Oh, don't pout," he said, shutting his eyes. "And no reason, I just am. Maybe I knew there might be dancing."

"It's a party," Angela pointed out, slipping an arm around him (since he wasn't looking at her there could be touching instead). "It kind of goes hand in hand with the dancing."

"It does not," Hannibal argued. "The types of parties I'm used to mean alcohol and video games."

They were mostly just guy parties, if you couldn't tell.

"Yeah, your idea of a party and Blair's just don't mix," she said, shaking her head.

"I have yet to meet this Blair," he said. "I've just heard stories. So, you know, I'm being good, went with the dress code and am not acting like this is a party with my idiot friends."

"You scared of her?" It was the comment about being good that might've given her that idea.

"...no." Admirable confidence there. "It's just not my party so I'm being good and all."

"Being good involves dancing," Angela informed him.

"It does not," he said and shook his head. "Being good involves me not punching anyone or making an idiot of myself."

"It doooooes," Angela said firmly. "And I'm sure there are people would agree with me."

"It does also include the no punching or being an idiot parts."

"You making up fake rules for a party isn't going to convince me to dance," Hannibal said. "Alas."

"Am I going to have to pout at you again?" she teased, reaching to take his hand. "Or just get you drunk?"

"I have no idea," he said, lacing their fingers together. "Like I'm going to tell you what might make me dance. You got off easy at the dance."

"Oh, hey, I put in a lot of effort there," Angela argued. "And it worked really, really well."

"You made out with me!" That was not a lot of effort. "It did work out really well but it was so not a lot of effort."

"I put my all into that," she said firmly, smiling up at him. "And I enjoyed it."

"Well, I hope so," he laughed. "If you went that far just because you really wanted me to dance, I'd be concerned."

"I could just really like dancing," she said. "No reason to be concerned."

"Oh, I'm not concerned," he said and swung their hands some. "I'm still not dancing with you tonight."

Or so he thought.

"You say that now," she said, in that way that left the 'but you won't be later' unsaid.

Angela leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I'll work on you." She had aaaall evening.

"I'll win tonight," he replied, sounding...somewhat confident. "I know your game. And I'm on my guard."

"Mmm-hm." She sounded like she believed that so much.

"I thought you were on your guard at Prom..."

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