The sounds of drunken laughter and muffled group conversation evade his senses as he leans back in his bar stool, the heavy buzz currently thrumming through his veins casting everything into a blurry glow. His fingers absently trace the rim of his glass, hazy eyes focused on the way you're out on the dance floor, surrounded by a few of your girl friends.
He knows the look your eyes get when you've reached your own breaking point in drinking all too well, his heart thumping a little harder when your eyes meet across the crowded bar. The alcohol seemed to make him forget the bitter heartbreak that had been plaguing him since the day you both decided it was best to break up, the strain on your relationship something the both of you didn't want to deal with anymore.
It had been a long time coming, both of you beating around the bush, trying to make it last as long as it could before it ultimately shattered. It was a mutual conclusion, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt.
And now with his body confidently inebriated he can't help but keep his eyes trained on you, watching the way you're looking at him, teasing glances of your own tispy gaze spiking his heart rate. The way you're leaning back into one of your friends as her arms wrap around you does bad things to his head, silent communication coursing through the air as your lip disappears into your mouth.
It makes his breath hitch deep in his chest, fingers raising the glass to his lips as he tosses it back, finishing the burning liquid. He lets out a hiss as the burn races down his chest, darkening eyes watching the way you're encouraging your friends hands up the sides of your waist, all the while keeping your gaze trained on him with that innocently teasing smirk on your lips.
It's seductive and a little provocative, as if you're hoping to get him to cave first, the tension that's been brewing the entirety of the night slowly coming to a boil. It's bringing out the side of him that doesn't care about the effects that'll dawn on him tomorrow, the toxic pull between the both of you leaving him unable to stay away.
It was the only thing that really worked between you; the sex that is, always leaving him craving you in ways he wasn't prepared for when he suddenly didn't have you next to him every morning. It was a paradoxical blend of desire and loneliness, leaving him achingly confused in the inner depths of his head when he was alone.
The tip of his tongue pushes against the back of this teeth, watching as your fingers adjust the hem of your dress currently sliding up your thighs from dancing on your friend, his patience wearing thin. He finds himself standing from the bar stool as he makes his way down the steps to the lowered club floor, his eyes tunnel visioned on you.
His eyes were nearly predatory, hands adjusting the cuffs of his shirt around his forearms as he brushes past other bar goers. His presence is enough to have your friends walking away, not missing the subtle winks and whispers left from them as you're left alone with him.
The alcohol isn't helping the heat radiating inside of him, his hands quick to snatch out and wrap around your waist, fingers splaying over your lower back as his head dips to speak right in your ear.
"You're playing a dangerous game with me, love."
It's almost missed over the deafening music, but when the words settle into your inebriated head your eyes widen, fingers instinctively curling in the loops of his pants, head tipping as you gaze up at him. It has his pulse thundering, eyes flicking to your lips, hovering, waiting for you to give him any sort of green light.
The mirrored, dazed look his his eyes from the night of drinking has your inhibitions loosened, teeth digging into the curve of your lip. A smirk tugs on them as you release the soft flesh, the smile you're giving him making him desperate to have you anywhere that's private and quiet.
