Francis gets the draw of rough living. He'd grown up in a ruined world, he gets leaning into whatever indulgences you can get your hands on. For him it's mostly people. Especially the ones that are a little bit dangerous.
He's not expecting the way his form changes into sparks, and then there are hands on the loops of his pants, dragging him along and it feels crushing, leaves him gasping for breath for a moment when they appear on the the stage. He doesn't seem too shocked by it, though, more a vague sort of interest than anything. He leans into the way that hands skim over his body, his own rough fingertips curling against him, tugging him in a little bit closer.
Didn't even know his name yet, but he liked how he touched him, and Francis could be a little bit easy when it came to falling into someone when he still had cheap liquor on his tongue.
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He's not expecting the way his form changes into sparks, and then there are hands on the loops of his pants, dragging him along and it feels crushing, leaves him gasping for breath for a moment when they appear on the the stage. He doesn't seem too shocked by it, though, more a vague sort of interest than anything. He leans into the way that hands skim over his body, his own rough fingertips curling against him, tugging him in a little bit closer.
Didn't even know his name yet, but he liked how he touched him, and Francis could be a little bit easy when it came to falling into someone when he still had cheap liquor on his tongue.