It must be destiny! [Complete]

Chapter 3

Kong's eyes went wide at the sheer pulsing aura of alcohol and sex filled to the brim in the bar. Kong and his friends making their way to the bar with as much fake coolness as they could muster. Well obviously a bunch of 18 year olds swearing to get wasted in the first bar they have ever visited what more could one expect. And yet there wasn't a sole on this planet who could convince them that this wasn't the best idea ever. Cause of course it was.

Today Kong and his gang had officially started their first day of college, and Kong was all ready to celebrate the night away. After 18 years of working his backside off to claim every scholarship that possibly existed, he had for the first time in his life moved into an apartment that belonged solely to him. All his. His alone. A tiny room that he could design and decorate any way he wanted.

And more importantly bring someone back to his apartment and make out to his heart's content. Cause you know what is next impossible to do in an orphanage? Have any goddamn privacy at all. In the 18 blasted years that he had spent in that place he had never even managed to get to second base with anyone. Can you even imagine what that does to the psyche of a horny teenager? Well, today he was determined to change all of that. All he needed was some good old liquid courage, and a sexy piece of ass.

One, two, five shots later Kong was more than ready to step onto the dance floor. His friends having crossed the stupidly drunk threshold a long time ago. Kong was a lot more sober though, kind of a requirement to be awake for any spit exchange to happen.

And while Kong was grooving rather awkwardly around the dance floor somebody bumped into his back, splashing his drink all over his shirt, and if he wasn't in such an awesome mood he would have definitely snapped at the annoyance hindering his grooves. And although he wasn't planning to launch into a tirade, a quick death glare was just what was warranted.

Or atleast that was Kong's plan until he turned around and saw a literal angel standing in the middle of sin city.

A man roughly around Kong's age, only a couple of inches shorter, a dark mop of hair falling around rather stylishly around his forehead, a diamond stud shining enticingly in his ear, as he flashed Kong a dimpled smile launching into a slightly slurred apology for spilling his drink.

For a man looking to score a hook up for the night, Kong was definitely behaving like a schmuck with his mouth literally hanging open, gaping stupidly at the gorgeous specimen in front of him.

"I'm so sorry. Did I ruin your shirt?"

"Uh...umm...uhhh..n...no...."

Kong was still stuttering away to glory as the man in front of him began patting down the front his shirt. Trying quite uselessly to wipe away the alcohol stains that Kong had long since forgotten. What he hadn't missed though was the double flip his stomach did at the sight of the fingers brushing down his chest. Or the increasing speeds of his heart racing as the man's palm remained pressed flat against his ribs, slowly cocking his head to the side as he felt the thumping organ right beneath his hand.

Kong wasn't entirely sure where he managed to get the burst of courage in him but he found his hand moving almost without his volition as it slowly wrapped around the creamy, soft one against his chest. And then he waited. Completely prepared for the man to roughly shove him away, curse him up and down till the cows come home and march away in disgust.

Except none of that happened. In fact the dimpled smile turned slightly shy at their first direct contact. His fingers curling to grab onto Kong's t-shirt a little more tightly, bunching up the fabric within his. Even taking half a step closer to Kong.

Was that a sign? That definitely seemed like a sign. And even for a man almost entirely novice in the arts of love, Kong could not miss the distinct glint of pure lust lacing the man's eyes. If the poor, inexperienced Kong had any game at all he would have definitely whisked the man away in a blink of an eye. But instead he was having a mental debate about what series of events needed to occur before his lips finally found their way to the plump pink one. And with all this thinking and very little doing, he let his perfect night slipped right out of his arms.