#{prelude}

Late response, it's been a Time, but--

Its actually really funny because i just had zanka lamenting the fact that he cant remember that night very well lmao

The way it all went down was basically Zanka of course had too much to drink and what happens when an emotionally repressed religious person drinks too much? Carpe diem. You do all the stupid shit because your brave now and that voice in your head is GONE.

Jabber was there a few friends who invited him out, not Raiders, just a random night out to go have fun. He was well on his way to wasted and high but i feel jabber has better control over it because higher tolerance and hes more used to it. Zanka definitely didnt have either of those things.

Theyd been kind of catching each other's eye for a while, Jabber trying to gauge interest, trying to see if its worth the small talk or if the guy even dances or if hes maybe with the girl that doesnt let him get even three feet away.

And suddenly the guy is making a beeline for him. Its kind of funny, kind of impressive, the way even drunk as he is, hes able to slip between people, eyes locked on him like a man on a mission and yeah, it strokes Jabber's ego. Usually when people want to get close to him, they pull all the usual. A superficial compliment, ask questions they dont actually care about the answers to, a suggestive touch, a suggestive look, try to make themselves seem more interesting and genuine than everyone else getting plastered at the bar or club or house party.

But not this guy. This guy saw him, wanted him, and acted on it.

Granted, Jabber expected a hello, whats your name at least. Not complaining at all though. Not when the guy kissed him and held onto him like hed already decided this was where he belonged.

He was wasted, but he was confident. The look in his eyes was hazy, but... happy. And damn he was pretty.

And this wasnt something he did regularly if the look on his redheaded friend's face was anything to go by. She looked impressed, excited, a little worried, but didnt seem intent on pulling them apart.

And then the teeth.

Teeth sinking into his shoulder right there in front of a crowd of people, damn near making Jabber fall to his knees.

The guy was a whirlwind. A powerhouse. Brazen. But apparently not on a daily basis. Because he kept telling his friend that he was gonna be different. That he wouldnt feel guilty. Closeted, maybe? But no. A closeted guy wouldnt be devouring him on the dancefloor, wouldnt move the way he did. Wouldnt say all the things he was saying against his throat and ear.

And that smile, ohhh that smile. It sank its hooks in him.

And somewhere in the haze of drinks and desperate kisses and demanding hands and thudding bass and swirling lights, the guy grabbed him with his hands on either side of his face, pretty blue eyes locked on him, looking at him with unreserved joy, like Jabber was the most important thing in the world. And he said something Jabber had never had someone say to him before.

I feel so free with ya. Like I'm a real person, not whatever they molded me into. Like I can be anything I wanna be. It's amazing. Yer amazing. I 'ont want this to end.

Followed by some very X-rated desires that had Jabber's heart hammering in his chest until they were stumbling over each other in a bathroom stall, swallowing each others laughter and gasping breaths, the taste of tequila on their tongues.

And despite the insistent hands and the heartbreaking pout, Jabber kept everything over their clothes. Drew him in and pressed against him and pulled soft breaths from those cute lips, and despite how badly he wanted more, he didn't let it get further. Because he wanted to see this guy again. Both of them sober.

And because his redheaded friend was knocking on the bathroom stall door, threatening to crawl under to get them out, and come on, the bar was closing, it was time to go.

And the guy held onto him tighter, shaking his head.

Jabber didn't want to let him go. This guy was something else, something fierce, someone Jabber wouldn't mind getting to know.

And by the time his redhead friend was waving goodbye, arm hooked with her friend's as they stumbled to a rideshare, Jabber realized he hadnt gotten his name or his number or his insta.

Like a deer in headlights