#Do I just want a fruity little beefcake of my own?

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Raw, next question

always thinking of lou bts from outer banks

[i-am-the-ass-admiral]

For A Laugh (Benny Miller x gn!reader)

Summary: It’s Benny’s first time at a gay bar and you ask him out the worst way possible; ~1.4k

Tags: humor, colloquial writing style, lust, teasing, flirting, implied bi!benny and reader, bad jokes (like terrible impeccable taste), alcohol consumption, excessive use of the word ‘baby’, soft benny, first date (sort of), au, meet-cute

Rating: Teen

Note: look i’ve never done this before, i just really really got stuck on this idea and i really liked benny. might not be your idea of him but god i think he’s a huge dork and a giant softie so here we are. wanted to throw a queer reader out there since you just don’t see them all that much and do something maybe a little off the wall? idk have fun, i think i’m hilarious XD

--

By some stroke of fate, you pick Benny up at a bar the first time you meet. 

He’s not hard to spot in a crowd as tall as he is and you’re just buzzed enough that your eye keeps coming back to him as the night goes on. He slides from corner to corner with his shoulders slightly hunched and the proverbial tail between his legs, following two shorter men who obviously know what kind of bar they’ve walked in to. Benny though—you didn’t know his name at the time so you called him Baby in your head—darts around with a kind of deer-in-headlights expression. It’s cute.

And annoying.

At first, you roll your eyes at him. Great, another straight dude to hit on your friends and get mad when they say no. 

Then you watch him a little longer.

You can’t help it, he’s pretty and looks more than a little lost and even from the end of the bar you can see how wide his tentative smile gets as he looks around. He likes what he sees; you’re just trying to figure out exactly what it is he’s liking. For a while Baby sits at a table with his friends. Holds a fruity cocktail between his knees almost as if he’s scared to be seen with it. Then after a couple drinks his smile gets wider and his voice gets loud. Boy’s boisterous—you can tell by the way he talks with his hands and throws his head back to laugh. He’s actually really fun to watch and it makes you smile. His buddies look almost out of place too until they get up to dance and—wow, talk about snake hips and floor sex, you haven’t seen anyone dance that good off the drag stage in ages. Baby stares at his empty drink for a bit, lost again, then heads to the bar. Not far from where you are, actually. Watching him walk with a couple drinks in him is a world of difference to how he first came in. There’s a swing in his broad shoulders, a confident cocky tilt to his head and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or if it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

Despite your better judgment, you’re leaning to the latter. 

You make a bet with yourself as he pulls up at the bar—he got the fun drink to please his friends, he’ll order something boring now—and you’re pleasantly surprised to lose your own bet. Baby orders a whole-ass mai tai and looks overjoyed at the gigantic slice of pineapple and cherries garnishing the top. He turns to the stage. Avidly watches a few performers and even starts cheering. That’s when others folks start to take notice. A couple men make a pass and, wouldn’t you know it, Baby plays nice. Smiles and nods politely even though you can tell he’s not really into it. Not totally but it makes you think…

Maybe Baby’s a little bendy and not as straight as you thought.

At that point in the night, your friends are on their fifth dance, you’re on your third drink, and it’s getting way too loud in here for you. You were going to step out for a bit anyway—or so you tell yourself—so why not have some company? Who knows, you might get lucky. And if not, you’ll have an even better excuse to get some air and at least you can say you did it for laughs. Not that this is a casino but you’re feeling feisty. Might as well roll the dice. Baby looks like the kinda Midwest-flavored bite of beefcake that will either have great taste and love your stupid pickups or get scared and leave. Hopefully he’s not the kind to throw a punch.

You sidle up to the bar next to him. No doubt your outfit gets his attention first. It’s not risqué exactly but it’s got flavor, specifically your queer kind of flavor, and it draws the eye the way you wear it. You smile as you look him up and down, enjoying the red flush on his cheeks that trickles down under the collar of his fitted shirt. Wow, Baby is built. You ask the bartender for a couple drinks while part of your buzzing brain throws up red flags. Maybe you should try to land your mouth before it totally takes off but unfortunately for ground control your tongue is flying solo tonight. You get your drink. Pluck off the fruit, take a bite and shout over the music, 

“Can I get your name or should I just get you a drink?”

As expected, Baby looks confused as hell but he pastes on a polite, if guarded, smile. “I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

Without missing a beat, you give him the second glass in your hand. There’s something about the way that guarded smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes that makes you want to do something stupid. You want to see him smile and laugh and even though you don’t have the slightest inkling about him, you want to know why such a handsome face would ever look so afraid.

So of course you ask, “How ‘bout a bet then? I make you laugh, you tell me your name?”

He makes a considering face and takes a long sip. “Bet.”

“What do you call the sexuality where you’re attracted to people by no one is attracted to you?”

“What?”

Very off key and with all the drama you can muster, you sing, “Allll Biiiii Myseeeelf.”

Baby snorts a laugh in his drink, which you didn’t expect, and a little warmth grows in your stomach. His faux smile is turning to a real grin. Albeit still a confused one but delighted all the same and he shoots back, “So that’s you, huh? By yourself?”

You wince theatrically and shake your head. 

“Ouch, Baby’s got teeth! You got me.” 

“Nah, what you get’s a name.” He holds out his hand and you groan internally at the length and breadth of it as you shake. “Benny.”

Just like that Baby becomes Benny and you’re absolutely smitten. You give him your name. Maybe your fingers linger. You want to get him another drink. You want to tell him another joke. Hell, you want to take him home and stuff him full of food in the morning. He giggles a bit and it’s endearing enough you decide to press your luck. 

“How ‘bout this one? What’s the best N’Sync song?”

It’s not a fair question, dude might not have ever even heard a boy band in his life, so it takes you by surprise when he immediately pops back with a drawling version of, “It’s tearin’ up my heart when I’m with you?”

“Ooo, a little romantic! I see you!” you tease, pinching his thick bicep for just an instant. Because really, any longer than that and you’d melt. 

Benny doesn’t pull away like you were waiting for him to do. Instead he ducks his head, more than booze burning his cheeks, and—ah, hell. 

“That one is killer,” you admit, “but I was thinking of the one where they sing ‘Bye Bye Bye’ while we blow outta here for dinner?”

It’s a stupid line—one of the worst you’ve ever come up with—and it comes out more like a question than a joke. You throw back the rest of your drink to hide the look on Benny’s face but to your delight, he says,

“Wait, really?”

“Well yeah.” You lean against the bar next to him, trying and failing to be nonchalant and you shrug. “I’m hungry and even though you’re a Grade A snack I don’t think you’d appreciate me taking a bite. So how ‘bout dinner?”

Benny finishes his drink all at once. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he stands. You sigh to yourself—this is the part where he walks off and you go get dinner alone, you suppose. But then he grins, like really grins, and offers you his arm to hold and suddenly your knees are jello shots. 

“I could go for a bite.” 

So you go for dinner. Text your friends, of course. But mosey down the street for 12AM tacos and end up laughing with Benny, shoulder to shoulder on the curb until your friends call for a ride.

And even though you didn’t get to take him home and feed him in the morning, your phone still dings through your snooze with a message under Benny’s name that reads: 

What did the barista say to his crush?

I like you a latte. :) 

Coffee later?

The warmth in your stomach from the night before blooms again and you laugh into your pillow before you text back:

Love to!

[danetobelieve]

It’s The End Of The World || Orion, Ricky, Winston. ft Lydia

TIMING: the night of 12/06/2020 (12th June) LOCATION: Abandoned Warehouse Rave on the docks PARTIES: @3starsquinn​, @ricky-corderbro​, @danetobelieve​, @inspirationdivine​ SUMMARY: Rio, Winston and Ricky attend an end of the world rave. Ricky is jet lagged. Winston is stressed and makes bad decisions and Orion throws up. Lydia makes a new friend. 

Winston wasn’t really feeling like going partying. Actually, going raving at the potential end of the world was apparently what everyone else was doing and when Todd had excitedly explained that they were going to be invited to a rave that he was playing at, well Winston hadn’t really been keen to go. But after a few drinks and some arm twisting, Winston had been convinced to go along with their other friends. They’d gotten dressed and were stepping out of the taxi that had dropped them off by the warehouse near the docks and Winston was nervous. They’d pre-gamed a bit before and they were tipsy, but that didn’t change the fact that they had seen some shit with Rio. They knew what needed to be done to resolve this and they weren’t going to be involved. They couldn’t change what might happened and honestly Winston had never felt more helpless. “Todd told us to just say we were here as his guests and show him our tickets and he’d let us in,” Winston adjusted their glasses a little, “all ready?”

Orion’s anxiety had been through the roof. He wasn’t sure if he had found the time to mention this to either of his roommate’s, but he hated parties. He had been to a few now. All times dragged against his will by Athena to some frat house where he proceeded to find the farthest bathroom from the noise and hide out. He had gotten so little sleep the last few weeks studying everything about this demon language that he wasn’t even sure he could stay conscious at this party. He had already dozed off in the car multiple times on the way here. It definitely didn’t help that Rio barely knew this Todd character that Winston and Ricky were friends with. He just hoped that the two of them weren’t like Athena was at parties. She usually stuck around for about ten minutes before ditching Rio. He wasn’t sure he was equipped to handle that here. “I’m sure this goes without saying, but I am definitely not.” Rio sighed, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. “I think I need… a drink. Or several.” Rio found himself saying, the exhaustion and stress getting to him. Rio had never been drunk before, he had never even had more than a couple of sips of alcohol. This was going to be a long night.

One very early and very long plane ride and one incredibly hellish layover in LaGuardia later; Ricky was back in the US, back in White Crest, and apparently on his way to a rave that Todd was DJing at. Truth be told it wasn’t the thing he wanted most to be doing right now; a long bath and about three straight days of sleep sounded a lot better. But even though he was still adjusting to his human body after a straight week and a half in his true form with his extended family and was still trying to figure out how to move with legs instead of swimming, he was happy to be home with Winston and Rio. Even if they were crammed into the back seat of a taxi. “I need something with caffeine or I’m going to pass out. I haven’t even had time to unpack yet; I wore these clothes on the plane, and I am not nearly awake or put together enough to make it through tonight without some help” They all fell out of the cab and Ricky stretched, sauntering up to the door with a smile on his face. “Hey. Cordero, Dane, and Quinn. We’re here as guests of the DJ.” He held out their tickets and waited for them to be let in, turning to his friends as the walked into what felt like a solid wall of sound, even to Ricky’s terrible hearing. “Well. To the bar?” 

As a large and very muscular bouncer led them through to the warehouse which had been brightly decorated in UV paint, Winston headed straight for the bar and probably would’ve made it if they weren’t accosted by a number of scantily clad men and women who attacked Winston with paint similar to that which was decorating the walls in patterns of eyes, spirals and cascades of colour that shone brightly in the darkness. The music was booming and before Winston knew it they were as brightly coloured as the walls, their t shirt was ruined and they definitely needed a drink now if they hadn’t needed one before. “Three actually six jaeger bombs please and like a vodka coke,” Winston passed the bombs round to their friends and swallowed them with a grimace, gross. They immediately regretted their drink of choice and tried to slam away the taste with copious amounts of vodka coke which some how made it worse. “Uh, maybe this wasn’t a good idea?” 

The group was ambushed by some fanatic painters. Orion’s hoodie and jeans were sacrificed to their whim, and though Rio mostly let them do their thing, he was very adamant about his sleeves remaining down as they trailed their brushes across him. They compromised by spending extra time on his face and neck, which only slightly stressed him out knowing that he had no way of knowing what they had drawn on him. He was totally lying; it really stressed him out. Even more reason to drink. Winston ordered a concerning amount of shots at the bar and Rio tried calming himself down. This was what he had wanted, right? “I uh- can you just make me something super sweet? Like really really sweet.” Rio smiled nervously, pulling the fake ID that Athena had procured for him out of his wallet. The bartender barely gave it a second glance before shuffling off to make their drinks. “Is this where I die?” Rio found himself asking aloud, taking a moment to glance around the place. It was packed wall to wall with glowing, dancing people. The music was deafeningly loud and it was way too hot for the hoodie that Rio refused to take off. Rio didn’t waste any time when the bartender brought the drinks over. He slammed the first shot as quickly as he could, immediately coughing and clearing his throat. “Oh my god ew! Oh god this stuff tastes like battery acid. Why would they make this? This was a terrible idea.”

It was only because he’d let Winston and Rio enter the warehouse before him that Ricky had enough time to react to the glow paint artists, whipping his shirt off and tucking it into his back pocket before they covered him with geometric designs that pulsed in time with the flashing lights. He pounded the two Jaeger bombs that Winston had ordered him, wry smile crossing his face as it looked like Rio might die from the alcohol content, “Only the first two taste like battery acid. It’s when they start tasting good that you gotta start worrying about how fucked up you’re getting.” He ordered himself a vodka soda and looked around the crowd, sipping his drink. This might not have been exactly what he’d wanted to do on his first night home but he was getting enough appreciative looks from appropriately handsome men to make this night potentially worthwhile. “This was a great idea, Winston. Don’t even second guess it. We’re supporting our bro, getting drunk, and getting his on by crowds of people who appreciate the fact that all three of us are studs. Should we go say hey to Todd? Least let him know we’re here jamming out to his set?” Finishing his drink he ordered another one, tipping the bartender heavily as he started to wind his way through the crowd and up towards the DJ booth. 

The crowd pulsed and throbbed as everyone danced. Winston could barely help themselves from getting into the mood. They were pretty drunk now, two jaeger bombs and the vodka, not to mention everything they’d had before. Grabbing Orion’s hand, Winston dragged their friend slowly through the dance floor. “Battery acid is exactly what I imagine these taste like, but they’re also going to make this way more bearable way faster.” It was hot and Winston couldn’t imagine how Orion could stand being in just a hoodie but they weren’t about to push the matter as they slowly made their way through the crowd of sweaty bodies that were doing their best to move along to the thrum of the bass and the blare of the drums. “It’s going to take us forever to get towards the stage,” Winston was sure that being on Todd’s guest list meant that they could do this the easy way, but right now they were too drunk to really think clearly and honestly, if they were going to do this then they might as well enjoy themselves, “Ricky you gotta go first and clear us a way you beefcake.” Winston giggled tipsily, unsure if their friends had even heard a word they said over the roar of the crowd and the hum of the music. Maybe slightly against their better judgement Winston was starting to enjoy the end of the world. Why not have a good time? Right?

Winston and Ricky was the only solace that Orion had right now. They were grounding him in many ways. Mentally, they were keeping his anxiety from completely spiraling. Physically, they were the only reason that Rio hadn’t ran from the place as soon as he stepped foot inside of it. Right now, the only thing Rio could focus one as how hot it was. He was sweating, and kept pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes with the hand that wasn’t being dragged through the dance floor by Winston. “He is a beefcake isn’t he?” Rio giggled, shutting himself up by taking a long sip from the fruity drink the bartender had mixed him. It tasted way better than those shots had. Rio took another drink. People pushed against them as they pushed onward and Rio found himself ducking and dodging flailing arms as they danced to the music. How did they think with how loud the music was? The dim lighting, trippy glowing colors, deafening music and crowd was making Rio dizzy. The place was disorienting enough,  but Winston’s hand dragging wrapped around his was making Rio’s head spin all it’s own. Another drink. “Do you think Todd hates me?” Rio found himself asking, a question he would usually never ask anyone aloud, especially mutual friends of the guy. The alcohol was working way too quickly. Another nervous drink. “Don’t answer that that was dumb. Let’s just find Todd.” Another drink. Oh no, he was almost out already. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Oh jesus. You guys are already drunk?” Ricky slammed back his drink as they made their way through the crowd, effortlessly parting the sea of people with his aptly-described beefcakeness, “That’s me. Dumb of brain, thicc of heart and ass.” He made sure he had an eye on both Winston and Rio at all times; this definitely didn’t seem like either of their scenes and he wasn’t about to lose them to a random drug trip induced by someone random ravegoer. He almost missed Rio’s question, and it was only because he’d turned around to check on them that he was able to read the other man’s lips, “What? Of course not. I don’t think Todd is capable of hating anyone, like biologically. It’s in that man’s blood to just love everyone and be the chillest of chill bois.” As they passed by a smaller secondary bar on their way to the DJ booth Ricky ordered a couple of shots and pounded them in quick succession, “It’s harder for me to get drunk.” He explained as he set the small glasses back on the bar and gave the bartender a nod, “We got more blood than you guys.” Eventually he muscled, smiled, and danced them a path through the dancefloor up to the booth where Todd looked like a) he was having the time of his life and b) he was on about seven different drugs. This close to a bank of speakers it was impossible for Ricky to hear anything except the bass so he just waved and shot Todd a smile and a thumbs up; those were pretty universal, right? 

“Hey, we’re not all build like a brick shit house Ricky,” Winston replied with a giggle as they sipped their drink through a straw and gently squeezed Rio’s hand. They could barely hear anything that Rio was saying, but they were pretty sure he’d just said something about Todd hating him. Which was absurd. “Of course Todd doesn’t hate you, Ricky’s right, he couldn’t hate you if he tried.” They flashed them a reassuring smile and had to admit that they kind of envied the amount that Ricky could drink. He seemed like he was having a good time on his own without needing to be drunk. It took them slightly longer to get over to Ricky and Todd, as they were separated in the buzz and hum of the crowd. Left with just Rio, Winston was eventually able to pull them close enough to Todd to wave from the crowd and grin, but despite the potential impending end of the world, Winston had to admit that they loved this song. “Fuck, this is actually pretty fun,” they said dancing in place, hand still clutching Rio’s fingers, “I’m probably just really drunk.” 

Orion felt a little bit better, with the assurance that Todd didn’t hate him. At least as far as Ricky and Winston are concerned. Rio was way too aware that he wasn’t sober. Or maybe he wasn’t nearly as aware as he thought he was. Was that possible? Was drunk Rio capable of being faux aware of being drunk without actually realizing just how drunk he was? Did any of that make any sense? The confusion made Rio giggle. Rio knew his tolerance was going to be awful considering he hadn't drank before, but he had hoped that being a hunter might give him at least some semblance of an advantage. But Winston was clearly just as bad off, because he was suddenly dancing along to the music, a song that Rio wasn’t familiar with. There was a noticeable difference now. Even drunk Rio could tell. Before, moving through the crowd together it just made sense that the two would hold onto each other so they didn’t lose their way. Now… well the two were standing next to one another and Rio’s fingers were still in Winston’s grasp. “You’re definitely drunk” Rio laughed, watching them dance along to the music without moving their feet. It was more swaying than anything else. “I think I’m drunk too.” Rio admitted. Was two shots and a mixed drink normal for someone to get drunk off of? Despite his internal monologue telling him not to, Rio found himself starting to sway in rhythm with Winston, trying to play along with him. If he tried to focus on the music he might be able to ignore how the only part of his body that he could focus on was the hand that Winston was holding onto. “I’m uh- I’m glad I came here. With you and Ricky.” 

It was a semi-familiar sensation to Ricky to stand on the outside watching other people. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Winston had grabbed Rio’s hand when they’d started working their way through the dancefloor, and it definitely didn’t escape his notice that the hand holding hadn’t stopped when they’d reached the DJ booth. He watched as they both drunkenly started to dance, a wry smile across his face. It wasn’t the strangest pairing he’d seen. Honestly it sort of made a strange sense. Ricky started to dance with a guy who’d been giving him a meaningful look while he kept an eye on his friends. Nothing wrong with cutting loose and having fun but he didn’t want either of them to end up the meal of some rave-stalking monster. Which in White Crest was a distinct possibility. The song made a smooth transition into the next one in the set, expertly guided by Todd’s skill, and Ricky leaned in to take the sharpie offered by his dance partner, quickly scribbling his number on the back of the man’s hand before moving back to stand near Todd. He was still close enough to keep an eye on Winston and Rio but not so close that he was infringing on whatever moment they were about to have. 

The world was spinning. But gently. Winston lumbered around, convinced that they were the most graceful dancer that had ever lived. The music slammed, pulsed and pounded. Todd was so good at this Winston thought as they slipped closer to Orion for a moment before prancing away (okay maybe it was more like a stumble). Their head felt thick and Winston wasn’t sure that they were that drunk. Then the world took a turn and Winston fell into Orion. Their hands coming apart for a moment and Winston couldn’t help but grip Orion’s surprisingly muscular shoulder. It wasn’t that he was Ricky ripped. There were no muscles glistening at obtuse sizes. Rio was just toned. The muscles were there but they weren’t for display or pretention (Ricky). Orion always kept everything covered up, always wore long hoodies or jeans or whatever and Winston wondered why in that moment they weren’t dying from the heat. But they didn’t care, they couldn’t let go, not for a second. Sure they’d used Rio to keep themselves standing, but it was more then that now. Winston’s breath caught in their throat as they looked into deep hazel eyes. Biting their lip, Winston felt the Earth stop spinning for a moment. 

Orion had finally relaxed. The music was still too loud. People still crowded around Rio’s personal space. And it felt like Rio may have a heat stroke at any moment. But he had pushed all of that to the back of his mind. Because he was having fun. With Winston, dancing here and definitely drunk. He didn’t even care about how dizzy or lightheaded he felt. Rio was convinced that Winston’s hand holding onto his was the only thing keeping him from floating off into space. When Winston practically fell into Rio, something else finally clicked into place. This was what Rio wanted. Rio knew that things were different with Winston. That the way he felt for them was different than his other friends. But Rio had never looked further into it. Had never wanted to. It made sense. Winston had it all. They were smart and talented. They were passionate about things and had a lot in common with Rio. They were really, really pretty. In spite of the alcohol and music drowning out his senses, Rio’s feelings for Winston were overwhelmingly clear in this moment. And that was terrifying. “Uh- you okay there?” Rio asked, trying to sound concerned but way too busy processing. Plus, he was pretty sure he was also laughing at how clumsy Winston had been.

Giggling, Winston felt someone brush past him. They must’ve been big because Winston was pushed closer to Rio. they basically had their arms drunkenly wrapped around their ‘friend’ at that point and Rio’s lips looked so soft. The world swirled and Winston was having the best time. Despite the odor of sweat and the sticky floor. Not to mention several drinks which had already been spilled on them making them smell of stale beer, Winston couldn’t help but admit to themselves that Rio might be the best smelling thing that they had ever encountered. Their eyes were captivating and Winston couldn’t help themselves. One second they were just looking into Orion’s eyes. Then they weren’t sure what they did. They weren’t sure why they did. They weren’t even completely sure how they managed to do it but they were stood staring at Rio one second and the next Winston was kissing him. Gently at first, their lips just brushing against one another, Winston could feel the other breathing and they couldn’t help but close the gap between them, pulling Rio close as they embraced him. 

Orion wasn’t sure who initiated it. Right now, Rio wasn’t sure how he was able to keep himself from toppling over. All he knew was that one minute the two had been dancing and laughing and now they were kissing. Rio fumbled his way through it. Intoxication may actually be working in his favor, helping to make up for the lack of experience and general awkwardness that under normal circumstances may have sent Rio spiraling. This was his first real kiss right? Sure, Winn had kissed him in acting class but that had been during a scene. It was in character. It wasn’t real. This was real. And it didn’t take long for Rio to forget any fears and melt into it. He ignored the added heat and welcomed Winston moving in closer, Rio wrapped their arms around their neck as if letting go would end the moment. Rio was desperate for this moment to not end. Who cared that they were in public and that a million people could see them? Who cared that Rio usually hated PDA. All he cared about right now was this moment with Winston.

Honestly. Winston had never really dated a lot. It wasn’t that they weren’t interested, it was more that other people weren’t necessarily interested in them. Which was fine. Winston had been busy for a long time, working on a million and one different projects. Always too busy to pursue someone who would just reject them anyway. But suddenly, in that moment Winston knew that they had been missing out. If every kiss felt like this then Winston was sure that there was something here that they should’ve been doing way sooner then this. Holding Rio tightly, they kissed them until they couldn’t help but pull back for air. There was a feeling of elation, of intoxication … fuck Winston didn’t know if they were just drunk but they wanted to kiss Rio again and so they did. Why not? What did they have to lose at the end of the world anyway? 

If the world truly was ending, this was exactly how Orion wanted things to go. With Winston, exactly like this. And Ricky... speaking of him, where was Ricky? The urge to scope the place out for him was distracted when Winston kissed him again. “Holy... Woah” Was the most poetic thing that Rio could manage to mutter once the two had pulled apart again. Rio was gasping for breath, a mixture of the heat and making up for the oxygen Rio had deprived himself of while making out with Winston. This was exactly what Rio had wanted, and Rio couldn’t help but be... happy. The thought made Rio’s stomach twist. The other shoe has to drop soon right? Something would have to go wrong. It always went wrong. Because the world wasn’t ending. Even if right now, Rio would have been perfectly fine with that. For the longest time, Rio had thought that the kiss had sobered him up. He hadn’t felt more grounded since they had arrived and he hadn’t been thinking this clearly in days. But it all came rushing back to him now. Rio was dizzy, sounds around him were nothing more than a loud buzzing and the contents of his stomach swam, threatening to force themselves back up. “So sorry- I just I have to uh- bathroom. Need bathroom.” Rio tried stating clearly before abandoning the attempt completely and rushing off into the crowding, desperately trying to push his way through before he completely lost his cool. And his dinner.

Winston was convinced that they were in heaven. They couldn’t breath but they didn’t need to breath. They had everything they needed and if they could have made a moment exist and last for a life time then Winston would’ve wished for this moment to span for centuries and millenia because in that second they realised all at once just how strongly they felt for Rio. He was so smart, and so kind and he cared so much about doing the right thing that he had rejected his birth identity and his own family because he couldn’t do what they were asking of him. Winston had never met anyone who was so good and pure and kind and Winston didn’t know how to deal with these feelings. “Oh, of course, sure, no … worries.” With that, Orion was gone and the kiss with it. Winston felt panic crack in their stomach and turned to look for Ricky. But he was gone. Either with someone else or the jet lag was too much. Catching Todd’s eye, Winston made it clear that they were heading out and decided to give Orion some space. Texting them that they were heading home, Winston left the club, much drunker and much more ashamed then they’d been when they came in. 

This was terribly macabre, and thus terribly White Crest. Beach balls painted white to look like eyes decorated this distasteful establishment, and even with ear buds in the music pulsed too loudly to be comfortable. Although if the world was ending, who cared about ear health? It was nothing in comparison to a banshee scream, but still unpleasant. Quieter, gentler music appealed to her more, but the talent at play here was undeniable. Her eyes drifted to the stage, as the DJ announced the end of his set, and another began. She squeezed through the crowd, under sweaty arm pits and past leering men, hurrying to meet him. He’d caught her eye last time, too, but she hadn’t been able to get close then. Now, there were no friends to squeeze through. “You’re Todd, the DJ that performed the last set, right? You were incredible.” The artistic potential rolled off him like waves in high tide. She looked him over, a smile curling over her features. Oh yes, he would do ever so nicely. Lydia’s stomach rumbled. “You look like you might like some company.”