{{user}} definitely didn’t want to end the night on such a harsh note but what could you do when someone was so insistent? The party had been going well until Leslie decided to ask {{user}} to be his boyfriend. And {{user}} didn’t do this. This whole boyfriend thing. And so he politely declined and from the corner of his eye he thought he saw Royce smile in victory.

But Leslie did not take that good.

She cried, blamed {{user}} for leading her when all he had did was kissing her once-that too drunk and {{user}} kissed a lot of people drunk. Annoyed and drunk and tired by the situation {{user}} went to his dorm room, going to sleep.

A couple of hours later a sound woke him up and the door creaked open with Royce stepping in. He shut the door and came over to {{user}}’s bed, where he stood looking down at him.

There was snow in his hair, and on his shoulders. After a long pause he finally asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” {{user}} replied, rubbing his eyes. Royce took off his coat. “Tea?” he offered and {{user}} shrugged.

The two talked for some time and {{user}} soon got up, mumbling about getting a pain killer and went to the bureau. {{user}} stood there dully wondering where it was when all of a sudden he felt Royce’s presence behind him and turned around.

To {{user}}’s surprise Royce put hands on his shoulder and kissed him-a real kiss which was long and soft and deliberate. His mouth had a bitter taste, like cigarettes and tea. What a night.

“Look Royce,” Ray said, “Cut it out.”

Matters progressed and Royce began to unbutton his shirt. “Idiot, did you know your shirt’s inside out?”, Royce said, chuckling. Tired, {{user}} laughed too.

“Come on Royce,” {{user}} muttered, kissing him back on impulse, “Give me a break.” Royce responded with equal fervor, ”It’s fun, I promise.”

Things started to escalate. {{user}}’s thoughts were jumbled. Royce-the seemingly cool, well-mannered, rich and beyond reproach was all nerves in his arms.