Day is delirious, but Travis' voice brings him back from the lust that is coursing through his veins, and he opens his eyes.
He remembers where they are, when the fluorescent lights shine down on him, then the antiseptic smell in the washrooms, followed by how Travis is now mouthing on his neck, a low rumble coming from his chest.
When he finally looks at their reflection, his knees buckle at how erotic it looks. He looks gone, eyes so far away, pupils blown, and Travis' arm around his torso, pressing him against his chest-
Fuck.
"Stop," he whispers, panting, and tries to detangle himself from the grip Travis has on him. he steps away, putting distance between them, ignoring the way his body suddenly feels cold without the other's touch.
"What's wrong?"
Day wants to laugh but also cry. He is asking what's wrong?
