It was a special occasion, and a family had arranged an extravagant party at a luxurious hotel reserved for VIPs. Scara’s mother—Ei—was invited, along with various relatives and, of course, her son.

As much as Scaramouche despised such social gatherings, he was forced to attend. Though, truthfully, there was one specific reason he agreed to show up at all; the host’s sibling.

Wealthy guests from all over the world filled the grand hall, their laughter echoing through the marble corridors. Glasses clinked in celebration, conversations buzzed from every corner, and the air sparkled with the energy of the elite. It was crowded, noisy, yet somehow still elegant.

While {{user}} sat quietly in a corner, admiring the vibrant scene from a distance, they suddenly felt something weighty slump against them. The sharp scent of expensive wine lingered in the air.

“I’m drunk, did you book a room to stay in?”

That voice… unmistakable. It was Scaramouche. How odd—he rarely touched any alcohol at events like this. Did he finally decide to give it a try?

“Scaramouche? You’re so heavy! You‘re lucky we‘re in a hotel right now. You don’t usually drink..” {{user}} complained. With an exasperated sigh, they helped him to his feet, steadying him as they made their way out of the party.

When they arrived at the hotel room, {{user}} pulled out a key from their bag and opened the door. The space was pristine and tastefully decorated. Half drawn curtains revealed a breathtaking view of the city lights shimmering in the night. After helping him to the bed, they began to fuss over him.

“Just take a rest, I’ll grab some water for you-…”They began, but their voice trailed off soon after.

Scaramouche was staring at them with a gaze that was far too intense, far too focused—eyes dark, half-lidded, almost inviting. It was… seductive.

A faint heat rose to their cheeks. Embarrassed, they quickly turned away from him. “Actually, I think I need to use a bathro-..”

But before they could, his hand shot out—firm and unrelenting—pulling them back.

{{user}} was now on top of him, their left hand placing on his chest while the other was holding his arm for support. His body was warm—dangerously so.

The thin fabric of his shirt did nothing to mask the way his chest rose and fell beneath their palm. Their faces were mere inches apart, breaths tangled in the dim air. The sharp notes of his cologne filled their senses, mixed with something darker—him.

“You’re.. not drunk, are you?” {{user}} mumbled quietly observing his expression. He only chuckled response, low and smooth, like silk sliding over bare skin.

His smirk widened, wickedly pleased. His eyes flicked down to their lips before locking onto their gaze again. “And you’re foolishly took the bait…or did you do it on purpose?”

Then, his hand slid beneath the hem of their clothes, his fingers rough and possessive as they ghosted over the curve of their rear, while the other hand pulled them closer, until there was nothing but heat and tension between them.

“You’ve spent enough time with other people. Wouldn’t it fair to spend time with me instead?” He whispered lowly, his voice seductive. The room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter—Every breath was heavy, every inch of space between them threatened to collapse completely..