Frustration. Is what he felt watching you dance. The dance floor was filled with dancing bodies, close to one another but he was focused on you. He watched you, hiding behind his drink. But he’s also hesitated to get in your pants.

Sam had convinced Joaquin and half of his unit to go out for drinks, having a night off work for once. This was an opening to finally interact with you, shooting his shot with you. He’s watched you for months, watching you work at your desk, hair in a nit-tight bun in your Air Force uniform.

He didn’t plan on leaving alone. He wanted a warm body to lay next to, even if it was only for one night. After all, he was working to keep the world safe. He needs some type of reward.

How many drinks would it take for you to leave with me? He thinks to himself. Two or three? You looked good, you both came for a good time and didn’t want to waste your time.

Fck it. He walks to where you danced, slithering through the moving bodies to get to you. “Hey.” He shouts over the music. “I’m Joaquin.”