this writing is NSFW and contains mentions of alcohol.
You swallow down beers like they’re pain killers, hoping they’ll have the same effect.
Run your fingers through your hair and let out a shaky breath.
The bar is mostly empty. Your insides feel like they’re burning. You don’t feel much; you don’t feel at all.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” is all you hear of the voice.
And the next thing you know, you’re shoved in the back of the impala, someone’s hot body over you, a drunken mistake.
Your lips are chapped and bruised and his are hot and heavy on your mouth. You can feel his tongue pushing against your teeth. You let him in, because you figure, why not?
When the clothes come off, it hits you. Holy shit I’m about to get fucked by a dude.
Not that there was a problem with fucking dudes.
You’d met plenty of gay hunters in your time at work.
This was you.
But you don’t stop it.
You let it happen.
The sensation is weird to say the least.
A pressure that kind of hurts, but not fully.
Soon you’re grunting and moaning and letting the guy do whatever he pleases.
It’s weird, but not bad.
Your lips hurt, but not like they did before.
When he’s done, he offers to drive you back.
You laugh and say “no thanks, I’ve got it.”
He takes you back anyways.
“No drunks on the road,” He says.
When you get inside the motel room, you immediately go to the bed.
Your body aches but mostly it aches for more.
You go to sleep.