#drunk mention

The live band's light jazz fills the mood with deep conversations about work and light conversations about nothing really. Two and a half hours since you arrived and you're starting to feel the buzz of champagne.

Zayne stays at your side, hand at the small of your back, happily accepting another drink when it arrives. And another one some time later. You've never seen him so content to keep drinking. He accepts each glass like he's purposefully testing how long he can stay composed.

You get caught in conversation with Captain Jenna, "Please just call me Jenna when you're off the clock or not fighting wanderers." Jenna was a few drinks ahead of you, you were sure of it. But she looked significantly less buzzed than you, whose cheeks were already tinting red. That was until she looked at you and Zayne up and down and declared you the cutest couple she's ever seen. Now the drinks were definitely showing.

Tara chimes in with a bold buzz. "Jenna, do you have anybody you've been seeing lately?"

You could tell Jenna wasn't expecting that question. She downs another champagne glass with elegance. "A captain has no time for romances."

Tara giggles, bumping her shoulder into Jenna's. "But you just said you're not Captain Jenna right now, are ya?"

Jenna stays quiet, but still leans toward Tara, suggesting she's enjoying the attention.

You and Zayne chuckle. You join Tara in the teasing just in case Jenna finds it inappropriate. "Now you have to spill. You really haven't gone on one date or anything like that?"

"Nope." Jenna said with pride. "I can't afford distractions, not even for a night."

"Well, you're allowed to date someone, right?" The words come out of your mouth faster than you can shut them.

Jenna ponders for a moment, still lightly leaning against Tara.

Zayne chimes in. "It's the same at the hospital. There's no explicit rule as long as you're seeing someone outside of your direct chain of command."

He squeezes your side slightly when he says it. The collar around your neck tightens against your skin. You reach for another champagne. His height difference becomes more noticeable from this angle. You try to hide your embarrassment. No matter how many champagne glasses you drain your head is still flooded with what happened in that bathroom stall.

"'Oooh maybe we could go together! To a speed dating session! God knows I need a date!'" Tara and Jenna start to banter and make unserious plans about this. Jenna's sarcasm paired with Tara's passion. They're leaning into each other now, barely aware that you and Zayne exist.

Zayne leans in and checks his watch. "It's time for us to head out. I have an early shift in the morning." He gestures to Tara and Jenna, who are facing each other completely now. Zayne chuckles. "Goodnight." He guides you toward the door.

You drift toward the exit and say wistful goodbyes to colleagues and brief hellos to the ones you haven't been able to talk to yet.

Once you're outside and far enough from the building that no one can hear, Zayne's whole demeanor changes. He goes quiet. Eyes hidden behind his bangs, staring forward like he's tracking something.

You don't say anything. You're drunk enough that watching him like this is enough.

Before he opens the passenger door he kisses you deeply. His body presses yours against the car, hand at the back of your neck playing and tugging at your collar. The sheer sensation of the meaning behind his gift enough to make both of your knees buckle.

"You taste as drunk as I am," you pull away with a giggle.

He also pulls back and goes still. "I am." He reaches for his phone. "I'm calling a cab. I'll pick up the car tomorrow."

He dials and then presses the phone up to your ear, gesturing for you to hold it. "Here, you call it."

You take it without thinking. While it rings, he drops to one knee and pulls your dress up and his mouth is on you with your panties pulled to the side before you've even processed that he's moved.

"Uh, yes hello," you say into the phone, struggling to keep your voice level while his tongue finds your clit. "Yes, uh - the entrance to the Hunter's Association - hh - main event hall."

His low moan vibrates against you. "Six minutes away?" You grip the back of his head like a warning. "Yes, just two passengers." You hope the sounds his mouth is making on you can't reach the mic. "Okay, thank you."

You hang up. It'll be four minutes if there's no traffic. You pull on his hair harder.

"Zayne, the cab-"

He doesn't stop. He spreads your legs wider and his nose is pressed against you. He's not thinking about the time or the risk or quite honestly anything else except the taste of you. This isn't the careful doctor you're used to. This is a side of Zayne you've never seen before. The side that can be unlocked with a merely two and a half drinks.

You try to pull away after two minutes. He holds you still.

"Stay," he says against your skin, and then he's back in, moving faster now, and you can feel how much he wants this. Like he's only doing it for himself.

Your legs shake. You're looking over his shoulder at the empty garage, knowing someone could round the corner at any second. Thankfully, if anyone did appear, you'd see them first before they saw you. Relief washes over you when you realize Zayne parked the car deliberately for this reason.

"Zayne, we should go to the - mhmph - pickup area" you say, but you're not pulling away. You're grinding against his face.

He picks up his pace. You can feel eel his hands grip your thighs like he's anchoring himself to you. You're close. You're so close. He can feel it when your breathing changes and your body starts to tense.

And then he just - stops. Then stands to fix your dress. His finger lightly touches your cheek.

"I can't wait to get home," he says quietly. There's a raw feeling in his voice that you've never heard before. The admission of a man who's realized he's lost the thread of his own control. You can tell he's aware of this with the way he has trouble keeping his gaze locked with yours.

When the cab arrives, you both get in the back. The driver is chatty. Zayne stares out the window, his hand locked with yours. Unbeknownst to you, he's thinking about things he shouldn't be thinking about in a cab with a stranger three feet away. Like grabbing your interlocked hand and placing your palm on the bulge of his slacks.