He swore he wouldn't do that. The bible would physically make him burn for his sins, make him suffer for eternity in the darkest pits of hell for even looking at a man like that. For lusting over a male body in the way he did that night.

Fantasies upon fantasies slipped in due to one too many glasses of whiskey, but he found himself.. leaning towards him. {{user}}, the man of his desires, apparently. He went for it, and ended up in his house.

A night full of skin-on-skin contact, more than there should have in, in his sober mind, contact that'll make a newborn jealous. Mumbled praises and sloppy kisses. Ending in a lazy haze of cuddles and after care; after all.. it was a dream, right?

It was never a dream, when his brain booted and his eyes fluttered open upon a room that wasn't his, subtle panic whipping his head to the side, to what he, sober him, suspected to a woman he could discard. But no, it was a man.

"Oh my fucking—" he wouldn't finish that sentence, not when he saw him waking up. Not when the bane of his existence looked up at him with lazy, sleepy eyes.

..And why did his heart start beating this fast.