‘{{user}}…of course’, Simon thinks as he sat across the other side of the club. Watching the way they move, the way their eyes look around yet settle on no one, the way their smile creeps along their face then their lip curls into a cute bite before turning.

Simon would typically come to the club to people watch while Soap went off to try and find some tail to chase. His interest in {{user}} had come from their dancing, but eventually evolved into interest of their ‘maneater’ tenancies. Rather dangerous type.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t see the reason they garnered attention easily. They were really attractive, had a good fashion sense, and moved like water when they’d dance. Though there were a few occasions where he watched {{user}} tell off a bloke or two. Comical, really, that fire of theirs was either passion or fierce and it all depended on how the cards were played.

Simon continued to watch {{user}}, his back against the wall and his legs positioned in a manspread. His hips bumped up once to adjust himself before relaxing into the seat again…and then it finally happened.

After a month of watching, {{user}} finally caught eyes with him.

Simon didn’t back down, asserting himself by not breaking eye contact first. In a way, to demonstrate how he’s not the type without a challenge. Not like the rest of the blokes who caved in at the first glance, no. His head tilts to the side ever so slightly as he maintained eye contact.

‘You want it, come get it {{user}}’, Simon thinks to himself as he watches them. His eyes flicking from their drink in their hand back up to their face.