"MC, You're In Danger" - A Short Snippet (Patreon)

Fuckboi young Grey - mildly 🌶 

You and Peter Grey don't run in the same circles. 

Which is to say, you know who you are (bookish, quiet, just paying your dues in the hellscape that's college before you escape Wisconsin forever). And, you also know who Peter Grey is (a hometown boy with a wolfish grin and a certain fondness for keg stands). The two of you are by no means compatible, but...that's not what this is really about, is it? Not with your back pressed against the shelf of books behind you, your head tilted back as Peter's mouth works a lazy trail up your neck right to the shell of your ear. 

You glance over to the aisle - empty, of course, because no one is here in this part of the library at this time of night - and you feel, more than hear, Peter chuckle, his fingers sticky against your too-hot skin. 

"A little too late for that," he says, teasing, and you huff, lightly push against his chest. 

"You're an ass," you say. Now that you've come down from your high, you're all too aware of the position you're in: your shirt riding up, Peter still between your legs, left panting after he wrung a cry so desperate out of you that you bit into his shoulder hard enough to leave marks. 

Peter shifts - and, you see, here's the problem. He shifts so that he's blocking you from the aisle, because he can tell that you're anxious now, he can tell that you need a moment to put yourself back together, and he's giving you that privacy, hiding you with that tall frame of his so that you can assemble some vestige of dignity again. A regular fuck boy would've just left you here. But, Peter? He's actually a really kind man. 

You're not in love. You know that Peter doesn't do relationships, and you sure as hell don't want one more thing tying you to this patch of no-man's-land, but it's in these moments - his gaze steady, his hands holding you up because God knows your legs are still shaking - that you really think, wouldn't it be nice to establish something with Peter Grey? To know that, no matter where he goes out at night, no matter how much fun he has, he will always come back to you. 

"Are you okay?" he says, and you clear your throat, readjust your clothes.

"I'm fine," you say. "Thanks for..." Your voice trails off, and you shrug. You were the one who texted him after all - and calling any of your...encounters with Peter as simple as a quickie, with the way he takes you apart, seems disrespectful. 

He smiles, and you curse yourself at how much you love it, how much you want to pull him close and closer and murmur something raw and intimate against his mouth. 

"Any time," he says. "Do you want me to walk you back?"

You shake your head. The night's still early. And you still have finals to study for.