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From across the room, Charlie spots the man the moment he steps into the house and picks Darcy up in a hug when they barrel towards him. At first, he’s shocked. The man doesn’t look like the type of person Darcy associates themself with, judging by his huge stature, the way he seems to tower over everyone. Then he remembers that everyone at Darcy’s party is some flavour of queer and allows himself to study him over the rim of his cider bottle.
The man has a kind smile and sparkling eyes as he chats with Darcy and their girlfriend but that’s not what’s caught Charlie’s eye. Not when he’s wearing a tight white t-shirt that seems to be straining against his bulging biceps and light blue jeans that hug watermelon-crushing thighs. Charlie bites his lip as he stares, the coldness of the glass cider bottle seeping into the skin, and he watches every movement the man makes, every hand gesture, every belly laugh. And it means that he catches the exact moment the man clocks onto his staring and their eyes meet across the room. Charlie sees in real time how the man’s eyes flicker up and down Charlie's body and get darker and how his tongue, perfectly pink, peeks out to lick his lips. Charlie smirks against his cider bottle.
Hook. Line. And sinker.
Because Charlie’s not in university anymore, he pushes himself off the wall and starts to make his way towards the man but someone else realises he’s at the party and pulls him into a conversation. His eyes stay on the man though, trying to convey something to him, and he sighs to himself when Darcy and their girlfriend drag the man away, out of his eye-line. Whatever, he’ll find him again tonight.
Sahar drags him to dance and he gives in, setting his empty cider bottle aside. It doesn’t take him long to lose himself in the music, for his heartbeat to match the beat that thrums through his veins, and he sways his hips to the rhythm, his eyes falling shut so he’s in his own world. He raises his arms up and throws his head back, feeling how his curls bounce, and a smile breaks onto his face. A pair of hands wrap around his waist and, though he knows it’s not the man from before, he leans into the touch, allowing the stranger to indulge in him for just a moment.
Then he feels a different pair of eyes on him and he blinks his own eyes open as the stranger starts kissing his neck to see the same dark eyes from before, staring at him like he’s trying to burn holes into him. Charlie smirks and keeps their eyes connected as he still allows the stranger to hold him and kiss his neck. The man raises an eyebrow at him. The song ends. Charlie excuses himself and sends the man a meaningful look before slipping through the crowd like a shadow, daring him to follow.
He doesn’t.
At least Charlie thinks he doesn’t. Not at first. He snags another bottle of cider from Darcy’s coolbox and pops the lid off, revelling in the coldness of the liquid flowing down his throat. He steps through the house to escape the flow of the party for a bit, stepping around the snogging couples, and settles in a dark corner to sip his drink.
Then, in just a blink, the man is leant over him with a knowing smirk, his bulging bicep caging Charlie in. Charlie stares up at him through hooded eyelids.