Re: Quicklog, Motel: Hannah S/Reece E
[Literally, Reece just blushed a lot. He blushed when he was at the urinal. He blushed when he was pat on the back. He was just a blusher. A lot of people took it the wrong way, but like Hannah, he didn't really let it bother him. He couldn't. It was an involuntary response and he'd never been able to suppress it. So, they hugged, he blushed and smiled a crooked lift of lips as they parted.—The drink was really strong. It was, as mentioned, dorm-room, pre-gaming strong, and Reece felt like he was about to head out to a frat party in like, five minutes. God, he was the right age for it, too. How fucked up was that?—But, whatever, strong or not, he drank it, even if it did make his soul want to vomit.]
Yeah, [was his answer to wanting more to drink. But, he was going to get it himself, because he wasn't a freak who expected anyone to wait on him. He stood over the bucket of ice and poured in a few fingers of vodka. The ripe smell of the stuff make the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he was literally wincing as he looked over his shoulder to Hannah.] She says I don't talk to her like I used to and don't listen and hate her for who she is. Stuff like that. [It wasn't a good scope of the conversation and he knew that. But he was also trying not to spill Sprite on himself.—He failed when Hannah mentioned sex. A blub, and the sticky soda dribbled onto his sock for half a second.] Fuck—[He shook off his foot, then finished filling the cup with soda, before he turned back to Hannah. He looked at her for a long moment as he swirled his drink like a poor James Bond (shaken, not stirred).
He walked back to the bed and sat where he'd been before.] Man, you don't want to have sex with me. You just want to have sex, don't you? [If Hannah knew what everyone and their mother thought about Reece and his sexuality, she wouldn't have even asked.]