parties were something that remmick frequented.

although he couldn't get drunk, he could still pretend to. he could down the foul tasting concoctions and play the stupid games that other people dreamt up.

so far, his favourite one was a mix between spin the bottle and seven mintues in heaven.

someone spun a bottle and whoever it landed on, they either went into the closet with that person, or they chose someone else to send with them. it was either a match or set up situation and remmick found it fascinating.

as the night passed, the bottle was spun and the people got more and more drunk, progressing past soberness and into something more tipsy - he was enjoying the entertainment.

that was until the bottle landed on you.

remmick knew who you were. he'd seen you around campus, or well he'd watched you. in his personal opinion, you were absolutely fascinating. something about you had caught his attention and really, you'd never escape him now. he wouldn't let a pretty boy like yourself escape.

whoever had spun the bottle pointed at him, and so he found himself in a closet.

it was small, far too small. he was settled on the ground, back pressed against the wall, and you? you had no choice but to sit on his thighs.

there was no room for you to sit on the floor like he was, and so here they were, sat in this rather… intimate position, yet he wasn't minding it. you were warm where he was cold. and really? he'd thought about this more times than he'd like to admit.

"you look nervous." remmick's voice broke the silence, it sounded a little more husky than normal. god you were attractive.

his hands were sat on your hips, fingers lightly kneading into the flesh, the only thing separating skin from skin was the shirt you wore. he wanted to touch you, your skin. every single inch of you - he wanted it to be his.

but he could be patient. seven minutes in heaven wasn't always about sex - even if he wanted it to be about sex right now. for now… they could kiss. if you'd let him.

"i'll be gentle darlin'," he crooned, a slightly teasing lit to his tone. "you can trust me. i'd never hurt a pretty boy like you."

as he spoke, his hands were moving, dipping slightly under your shirt, the pads of his fingers resting on the warm skin of your stomach - god he could hear the way that your breath caught in your chest at the feeling of his cool skin against your warm skin.