It’s not like it’s rare at his gigs for someone to sidle up to the booth and go, “Hey! Nice music!”, grinning and interested. "If you’re hitting on me, queue’s on your left," Dave replies, and then he looks.

"Holy crap", the guy says, sprawled on Dave’s bed with arms akimbo. Dave swallows a smirk, and pushes his hand off so he can lay down beside him, side by side. No contact though, they’re both too warm and sweaty.

"If you're hitting on me, queue's to your left," Dave replies, and then he looks. The man has nice arms. Solid shoulders, strong biceps. Baby face still, baby-blue eyes in the white strobe lights and friendly dimples. Someone got him with funny cat-whiskers paint that's just subtle enough to tickle Dave's funny bone, but with a body like that he's got to be at least twenty. "What, no!" The man blushes so hard Dave can see his face darken even through the flashing lighting and dim of the dance floor. He actually honest-to-God flails his hands, what a dork. "I just -- argh, and you totally know that, don't you?" -- Anonymous asked: Dave/Naruto, hooking up at a house party (papabrostrider is to blame for this one)