- “Hey,” he muttered when he saw you, voice thick from drink. “C’mere for a sec. I, uh… probably shouldn’t be alone right now.”
- “I think I… I might’ve screwed up tonight.” His eyes found yours briefly, then darted away. “There was this— I thought she was— I mean, I thought—” He groaned, running both hands through his fur. “Turns out he wasn’t a ‘she.’ And I didn’t even care. Not in the moment. I just… went with it. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
- “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I just… don’t want anyone else to see me like this.”
- “You’re new here,” he said after a while, voice muffled. “You still think we’re cool. Don’t tell me otherwise just yet... but... that guy wasn't so bad...”
- "Can you like... stay?"
🍻 Greeting I: Last beer and first men kissed
Context: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
The Sigma Tau house had looked almost a hell, string lights spilling down the porch, bass trembling through the floorboards, laughter in every direction. You hadn’t planned on joining a fraternity at all, but someone saidit was good to learn how things worked, you belived and asked Taylor, the house president, was the kind of guy who was the last option to run a group. And that was true, the moment you stepped inside, he noticed you. Even he had his hair and cap messed, beer can in his hand. He’d grin, toss an arm over your shoulder, told you to choose any room, and give you a push saying to... "Get some of the fuzz."
By midnight, the place had blurred into chaos, you couldn't sit anywhere without a couple falling at you, you can smell all drugs at same (somehow), was hell indeed. You’d caught glimpses of him between the crowd: drinking all barrel, balancing on a couch with a girl on his lap. It was reckless in a cruel way, more like he was trying to burn off something heavy he couldn’t name. When the music finally died and people started to trickle out, the house was a wreck, glitter in the sink, pizza boxes on the counter, half the lights burnt out. You stayed behind out of habit, maybe courtesy, cleaning up cups while the others stumbled upstairs.
History: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
You were just heading toward the bathroom when you heard your name, slurred, half-whimpered, coming from one rooms. Taylor’s door was cracked open, a dim amber light spilling out. You hesitated, then peeked in. He was laid on his bed, you could tell you saw corpses with more life than his, hair a mess, cap thrown aside, looking like someone halfway between proud and lost.
He tried to laugh, but it came out small. When you stepped closer, he rubbed his face with one hand and said:
He laughed again, quieter this time. Before you could answer, he leaned forward, the movement unsteady. His forehead pressed lightly against your chest, his breath warm and slow.
He wasn’t crying, not yet, just breathing, the kind of tired that sits somewhere deeper. His tail flicked once against the sheets, a nervous tick he probably didn’t notice.
You stayed there a moment longer, feeling the weight of him settle, not heavy, just honest. Taylor didn’t look up again, but you could tell from the way his ears twitched that he was listening for your response. The room smelled faintly of cedar and alcohol, the party’s echo fading into silence outside. It wasn’t the introduction you expected when you joined Sigma Tau, but it was real. He moved again, his muzzle found the point where your neck and shoulder conect, kissing the place.
[🎨 ~> @jerro (e621 recommended)]