Mercedes is sinking like a stone at the (reservoir) wrote in repose,
Re: In the trees: Mercy/David
Mercy didn’t care about polite. It was admittedly a bit of a foreign concept. He was used to searching, seeking eyes, or lingering ones, or the aforementioned stares that laid claim where none was had. He didn’t care that his dick had been hanging out for the guy in the woods to see, but he cared that the same guy might have seen him on all fours looking significantly more fuzzy and four-legged. The fact that the dark-haired man in the woods who blinked less than seemed strictly natural hadn’t hastened to look away from the gap in his jeans didn’t bother him as much as the fact that something about the guy looked… familiar.
Not familiar in the way of a distant family member, or an old classmate. Familiar in the way that he stood, his posture, the pallor of his skin under the light that filtered down to them through the treetops. There was something that tasted like chalk and salt in the air, and Mercy’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head and stared at the guy with his hoodie held in both hands in front of his naked torso.
“Do I know you, man?” He blinked, dark eyelashes spiked against his cheeks in confused consternation. There was something about the man that he knew. His nature, if not his person. Mercy followed the direction of his gaze toward the bonfire. “I just made up my mind to try it out, actually. I’m not a huge party person. You?”