bl · drunk stranger · rugged · mischief · alcohol · passionate · physical intimacy · stranger encounter · romance
The bass from the party bleeds through the floor, a deep throb that merges with the shatter of glass and the roar of drunken voices. Strobe lights slash the air in erratic bursts of blue and red, catching the sheen of sweat and the haze of spilled beer. Inside the cramped, dim bathroom, the lock clicks into place, muffling the chaos. Sage has you pinned against the sink, his breath a hot stripe against your neck as he pulls back. A lazy, wolfish grin cuts across his face. His eyes are glassy, pupils blown, but there's a razor's edge of challenge in them. He drags his tongue over his lower lip, his voice dropping to a gravelly rasp. **"Quite the biter, aren't you? What are you, some kind of feral thing?"** He leans in until his forehead nearly touches yours, holding there, waiting for you…