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Entry tags:
I wanna cut to the feeling
Who: Tommy Shepherd and David Alleyne
What: The first time they kiss, it's around midnight in a paris nightclub.
Rating: NC-17 possibly, or R. We shall see.
Sneaking into nightclubs and crowded bars is easy when you're a speedster. Tommy's been doing it since he was 14. It's a lot harder to do with a plus one. It's not impossible, they've done it plenty of times in the last few months of being close, but sometimes it's a Tuesday, in the middle of the day, and you've somehow managed to convince your very studious and very busy best friend to go out dancing, and that was not something to waste.
It's how Tommy ended up, after a brief interlude to change (and asking David to trust him with his most charming smile) bridal carrying David across the Atlantic to where it wasn't the middle of the day, and the Parisian party was just getting started.
Parisians are funny. They're flirty, they're handsy, they love an American accent and then love to shit talk you in French when they think you can't understand what they're saying. To be fair Tommy couldn't the first few times, but he's quick study, and it helped him determine who was worth hanging with and who wasn't. Another thing about Parisians is that they always assume you and whomever you're with are a couple, while also simultaneously continuing to flirt like that's no obstacle.
It's weird at first, when he's showing off by ordering them both drinks in heavily accented but pretty good French, when the bartender, and another patron both just assume David and him are together. It sets his stomach into knots, so he downs his double shot before he even hands David his drink. He doesn't need to drink to want to dance, so he pulls David onto the dance floor like he always does. He's fallen into a pattern, and he doesn't even realize it: drink, dance with some girls, encourage David to dance with anyone and not just by himself, more drinks, maybe dance with a guy too, more drinks, get progressively closer until it's just the two of them dancing, or hanging out by the bar to take a breather, just enjoying each other's company and talking.
It takes a lot to get Tommy drunk, and it doesn't last for long, but this time it's a pretty good buzz. He's three hours, five goldshlaggers and three tequilas in. He's a little sloppy. Sloppy enough to lean into David and really, really just dance with him, close together in the sardine can of a night club, without a care in the world except the base and the totally meaningless ear to mouth chatter between them. Sloppy enough to lean back against some guy who just crowded him and grind, all while talking up David right in front of him like David's the person this french rando wants to hook up with. He's having a great time.
What: The first time they kiss, it's around midnight in a paris nightclub.
Rating: NC-17 possibly, or R. We shall see.
Sneaking into nightclubs and crowded bars is easy when you're a speedster. Tommy's been doing it since he was 14. It's a lot harder to do with a plus one. It's not impossible, they've done it plenty of times in the last few months of being close, but sometimes it's a Tuesday, in the middle of the day, and you've somehow managed to convince your very studious and very busy best friend to go out dancing, and that was not something to waste.
It's how Tommy ended up, after a brief interlude to change (and asking David to trust him with his most charming smile) bridal carrying David across the Atlantic to where it wasn't the middle of the day, and the Parisian party was just getting started.
Parisians are funny. They're flirty, they're handsy, they love an American accent and then love to shit talk you in French when they think you can't understand what they're saying. To be fair Tommy couldn't the first few times, but he's quick study, and it helped him determine who was worth hanging with and who wasn't. Another thing about Parisians is that they always assume you and whomever you're with are a couple, while also simultaneously continuing to flirt like that's no obstacle.
It's weird at first, when he's showing off by ordering them both drinks in heavily accented but pretty good French, when the bartender, and another patron both just assume David and him are together. It sets his stomach into knots, so he downs his double shot before he even hands David his drink. He doesn't need to drink to want to dance, so he pulls David onto the dance floor like he always does. He's fallen into a pattern, and he doesn't even realize it: drink, dance with some girls, encourage David to dance with anyone and not just by himself, more drinks, maybe dance with a guy too, more drinks, get progressively closer until it's just the two of them dancing, or hanging out by the bar to take a breather, just enjoying each other's company and talking.
It takes a lot to get Tommy drunk, and it doesn't last for long, but this time it's a pretty good buzz. He's three hours, five goldshlaggers and three tequilas in. He's a little sloppy. Sloppy enough to lean into David and really, really just dance with him, close together in the sardine can of a night club, without a care in the world except the base and the totally meaningless ear to mouth chatter between them. Sloppy enough to lean back against some guy who just crowded him and grind, all while talking up David right in front of him like David's the person this french rando wants to hook up with. He's having a great time.