Darien felt like a huge weight had been lifted off him as Sebastian agreed. He managed to save this little bump in the road, but what if he fucked up again? Could he save it? Was this just a pity thing now? He feels overly emotional and both insecure but courageous at once. The buzz was hitting him hard and he knows he needs to slow it down if they were to have the rest of the night. The last thing Darien wanted was to black out. He thought what had just happened was embarrassing? Hell, that would be the trophy taker right there passing out in the street and leaving Sebastian empty handed - empty of what, though? That's just what I need to do, pass out with a stranger who is also a vampire.

When Seb closes the gap and grabs his waist, that was a new sensation. No one had ever grabbed him there, or like that. He unintentionally lets out a soft oh at it, and then he has no time to even say another oh before Seb's lips are delicately against his skin. His breathe stroking his cheek. Those damn butterflies in his gut come back with vengeance. The bar was a swirl of colors and sounds. He feels connected, like he finally found the door to a key he'd been holdin' onto for years. In that moment, he decides he liked this. He really, really liked having his waist grabbed. His own hand softly grips the bottom of Seb's shirt.

There was no hesitation. "One sec!" He grabs his beanie, his bottle of Fireball and shoves them all into his bag which he swings onto his back quickly before allowing himself to be embraced by Seb's hand around his hip again. The two of them walking out the bar, which also mean't they had to pass those businessmen. Darien doesn't make eye-contact with them at all. He felt strangely safe with Sebastian, but he couldn't help but still feel as though they were being judged and watched by hawks. His flight-or-fight kicks in a little, but feeling the vampire beside him keeps him in check. He also has his arm wrapped around, grabbing Sebastian's hip. They must looked like two little girls about to skip across a field.

Greeted by the cool breeze of the night, he doesn't realize how hot he'd been inside the bar. He can feel little tiny beads of sweat on his hairline, and doesn't even wonder why he was feeling all bothered in the best way. He listens as his company pens out possible directions to take this and Darien's throat almost swells shut. My place? He's ashamed to admit to being homeless, and broke. There was no way in hell that would be sexy. Hey, this is my bed next to that smelly old man and the other twelve people, but don't mind them, pretend they aren't there! Aren't my white sheets and thin grey blankets sexy as hell and my one rock solid pillow? His face probably showed the horror that he was picturing inside his head. And a club? The crowds? His lack of dancing skills and the potential to get even more drunk? Well, that sounded better but what would they do after that? "Um, well."

Before he can even decide, he can hear the door behind them open and a familiar, boisterous voice booms from it. "That explains it, you faggots!" Fuck me. Darien looks at Sebastian with disdain and agitation and lets out an audible sigh. He lets go of Seb's hip at the mention of that hurtful, nasty F word. "Hey, I'm talking to you! No wonder I've never seen you here, or your back door bandit boyfriend!" He can hear a couple other men laugh, so Darien knows it's all three of them. Drunk and looking for a fight; how typical. He feels his backpack is ripped down and off his shoulder onto the sidewalk. Darien's blood boil at that and he's tired of them, of this, of the names. He turns around and just as he does, a sharp pain hits his mouth and nose. The man punches him right in the face, and Darien stumbles back (but isn't knocked down). "FUCK!"

Blood starts dripping from his nose into his palm that covered his mouth and onto the pavement almost immediately. The pain was intense. This wasn't exactly how he had planned for fun.