prompt; smut//⚠️ poetic?
[3.4k words]
//
Skin tight, like painted on fabric. No doubt it would be hard to remove, but it looked good in the moment. It looked really good, and that was the point. The way those jeans hugged his thighs should be illegal, and the way his cherry lips looked under the filtered club lights that dimmed his eyes, took my breath away. There had to be a law against looking that hot.
He was a sinner in the key note dark, keeping the tempo with every swing of his hips. I on the other hand, struggled to keep the beat in my heart steady, let alone follow this one. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. There was a slight sparkle on his eyelids, and just the faintest hint of stars on his cheekbones. I'd never seen a boy this pretty.
My eyes gave me away. He met them and a dark eyebrow raised. I felt my cheeks flush to match the color of his lips. I should not have come here. I was never one for parties, for clubs, or any places that in my head were tied to awkward social situations. But, boys like him, are what made me change my mind.
Now I stood surrounded by flashy pop tunes, and feeling isolated by the gaze of a boy in too tight black jeans. He smiled, and he had a cute dimple, like he'd been kissed by an angel. Some people thought I was an angel. But, boys like him, are what changed that.
He gestured me over with a simple nod of his curly head, and I felt my heart speed up. I was right for walking through these doors. Well, more like being forced through by my hyper friends. But I didn't know where they were now, and I didn't care anymore. None of them looked like this boy.
I moved around bodies, awkwardly making my way over to the brunette. His skin was hot, I know because he pulled me close to him so I could hear him over the music, "You lost in thought, or do you like what you see?" He smirked. Obviously, he wanted an explanation for my previous staring.
"Uh...both I guess," I stammered.
He laughed, "Good, I like what I see too."
I blushed, his dancing and seemingly care free personality making me feel inferior to him. His curls danced with him as he moved, and I tried to follow him.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Phil." I answer. And he nods and smiles again, "My name is Dan."
I wonder if it's weird to shake his hand. I'm not sure what to do next, but he doesn't seem phased by my awkwardness. "Do you want to chill out for a moment and get a drink?"
I nod, "That'd be nice."
He drags me away from the spirits of party people, amped up on alcohol and adrenaline. I never really fit in well with a crowd like this, but he's dressed just as hot as them and looks like he could stay forever, not even tired from all of that moving. I can't help but be enticed by him, he stands out to me like a blossom in the winter snow.
"What are you doing here?" He asked as we sit down, "You don't seem like the type to come to places like this."
I sigh, "Is it that obvious?"
He shrugs, "I think it's really cute."
I hide my face. "Thanks."
He chuckles. "Don't be embarrassed, boys like you make me happy."
"Boys like me?" I ask.
"Really hot, doesn't know it. Not all out there in a crowd, but still outgoing. Nice eyes and an angel look, but with the right person, the most dirty intentions." He winks then, and I can't help but laugh because I think he's pretty much figured me out.
