Quote:
The New Year is nearly upon you; all around town, people are buzzing with excitement. Sales are aplenty and among some of the better deals is a popular new brand of champagne. The drink’s been getting a lot of attention and very good reviews; it boasts a guarantee for a magical evening. It’s a promise that holds true—sort of. Anyone who imbibes the champagne will be extremely in tune to their more romantic feelings. They may feel more open, more daring, or more flirtatious towards the object of their affections. Or, maybe a glass of it is enough to make them realize they have feelings for someone…Either way, after ingesting the champagne, romance is all you can think about. The effects last for only a few hours, so you’d better use that time well. The bottles are out of stock quickly, so you are lucky to have gotten your hands on one. Lucky, unless you made a fool of yourself in your romantic haze…
WHOMST THE ******** SAID THIS WAS A TRAIDTION? Winston looked at his clock, angry, semi drunk eyes glaring at the time. Eleven forty eight PM. Not midnight, not yet. He was feeling a right fool, going to this party. He hardly knew anyone, and the guy who invited him was just looking for ‘some British insight’ which Winston didn’t have the faintest inkling of what the wanker meant. British insight? The ******** was that then? It was a right crock of a s**t it was. Wait-
A swig of the bubling wine. Winston thought about it longer, harder. Was the guy- had the man been hitting on him? He nearly dropped his glass at the revelation. He- he’d been flirted with. Okay, granted, flirted with in such a vague and bad way he’d almost missed it entirely but wow. Wow. Slumping into his seat, Winston’s mind had left his anger and waiting for some ball to drop to how the hell he was supposed to deal with the reality that some guy hit on him. As far as Winston knew he.. didn’t like men in that manner. Not that he’d ever tried. He hadn’t and maybe he should? It was a new year and the americans did have that saying.
New year, new you.
Did that mean he should experiment? He didn’t dislike the idea but he didn’t like it either. The guy looked nice enough but he also knew nothing about him aside from the fact they hung out at the game store sometimes for a few short campaigns.
Winston blinked at the clock. Eleven fifty one. Still not midnight. Not yet. Huffing, he wondered vaguely if the guy had given any hinst when they’d played.
Oh.
Oh god.
Oh GOD he’d been a fool.
The guy’s rogue and tried to shack up with his paladin why hadn’t he realized this all sooner he was a right fool. A buffoon. The guy had been hitting on him for weeks. WEEKS now. The dungeons and dragons campaign hadn’t even ended but Winston realized with growing dread, technically the guy’s character and his own had indeed, hooked up. Right before the party invite. ********. Double ********. The guy probably though Winston was into him or something. s**t ******** damn. He wasn’t. Growing realization. Winston didn’t feel a desire a real genuine want to experiment. He was straight. He liked boobs. (He liked them a lot?) How could have been so blind. The poor guy. Unwittingly, Winston had strung him along. Downing the last of the alcohol, Winston groaned into his hand. He had to break it to the guy. There as just no other way.
Actually, next morning, it turned out there was another way. That way being getting naked and sleeping with a guy he hardly knew while half drunk. He’d tried to say no, to deny the guy but at the stroke of midnight, he just had this urge. A need.
So, at midnight, he’d kissed a man.
And he’d liked it.
