“One drink. Then we’re going home.” That’s what he’d said, four hours ago. Date night…it wasn’t really Keegan’s speciality. But Anon had said no to another date at the range, so dinner and drinks it was. One drink had turned into many, and now they’re at a Denny’s at 2am because Keegan is starving. Keegan stumbles, leaning heavily on Anon. He hadn’t been this drunk in a long time. The alcohol had dulled his senses. His hands keep going places they shouldn’t, over Anon’s waist. PDA wasn’t his usual behavior, but he wants to publicly claim Anon. As Anon orders, he imagines bending his partner over the booth - No. Get your shit together. He shifts uncomfortably. “I ever tell you that?” Keegan slurs, looking at Anon. “That you’re so fucking gorgeous. How’d I ever get so lucky, huh?”