desperate times call for equally desperate measures, devon’s afraid. had he any tact at all, he would’ve been more mindful of the consequences his actions could evoke, should any of them get back to his ex before he has a chance to confront her himself. unfortunately, there was no desire in him to thwart the raunchy, feminine giggles that travel through city brew pub’s unisex bathroom, or his masculine moans that accompany it. devon was on the verge of finally ridding thoughts of kira and replacing them with someone new when a barrel of knocks resounded from the other side of the restroom’s door. in the five minutes it took him to drunkenly pull apart his zipper, a line gathered outside the stall. impatient customers huffed and puffed as they waited their turn for the restroom. “ it’s occupied! fuck off! ” the warnings issued between sloppy kisses, lingered for about another minute or two before there were more knocks, followed by the manager threatening to kick devon and his date, [who’s name he can’t remember] out should they not exit immediately. not ready to leave the pub as a whole quite yet, devon obliges, escorts his blind date back to the bar and pulls her into his lap before they order up another round of drinks. they manage to drunkenly play and purr, before she excuses herself to answer a call and devon’s left to loiter at the bar by himself. in his solitary, he knocks back his drink, orders up another round yet again, and casually flicks his gaze to the person at his left, who he can’t help but feel a little perturbed by. something about him, about the way they lock eyes, drudges up dev’s more hostile reflexes. “ what are you lookin’ at ?” @deanjacksons